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UNIV.  OF  MASSACHUSETTS/AMHERST 
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Alone  the  Old  Roads 

I!  ^ 

of  Cape  Ann 


PRINTED   BY 

F.   S.   &   A.    H.    MCKENZIE 

GLOUCESTER,   MASS. 

1923 


Copyright.  1923 
By  Cape  Ann  Scientific  and  Literary  Association 


All  rights  reserved 


To  Mrs.  SARAH  C.  ROGERS, 

WHOSE  INTIMATE  KNOWLEDGE  OF  THE 
"OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN"  HAS  MADE 
THESE  CHAPTERS  POSSIBLE.  THE  CAPE 
ANN  SCIENTIFIC  AND  LITERARY  ASSOCI- 
ATION. AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBES  THIS 
MODEST  PUBUCATION. 

0 


FOREWORD 


This  little  book  in  going  forth  on  its  two-fold  mission 
seeks  to  guide  the  stranger  into  pleasant  paths  hitherto 
unknown  to  him ;  and  to  bring  back  to  him  who  knows 
them  well,  the  cheerful  recollection  of  old  beloved 
haunts.  No  liberty  of  trespassing  on  another's  property 
is  here  encouraged,  and  it  is  hoped  that  an  earnest  desire 
to  conserve  our  native  flowers  has  been  engendered. 

Scattered  here  and  there  among  quotations  from  the 
old  familiar  poets,  lines  may  be  found  from  our  own 
native  writers;  these  we  wish  to  acknowledge  and 
also  express  our  thankful  appreciation  to  Miss  Edna 
A.  Foster,  Mr.  Harold  Trowbridge  Pulsifer  and  Mr. 
Joseph  Auslander  for  permission  to  use  their  verse. 


"So  will  I  build  my  altar  in  the  fields, 
And  the  blue  sky  my  fretted  dome  shall  be; 
And  the  sweet  fragrance  that  the  wild-flower  fields 
Shall  be  the  incense  I  will  yield  to  Thee/* 


I 


TO  SPLIT-ROCK  PASTURE 
FOR  SKUNK  CABBAGE 

|E  were  within  three  leagues  of  Cape  Ann, 
and  as  we  sailed  along  the  coast,  we 
saw  every  hill  and  every  island  full  of 
gay  woods  and  high  trees.  The  nearer 
we  came  to  the  shore,  the  more  flowers  in  abundance; 
sometimes  joined  in  sheets  nine  or  ten  yards  long, 
which  we  supposed  to  be  brought  in  by  the  tide. 
A  westerly  wind  between  five  and  six  o'clock  brought 
us  to  a  fine  sweet  harbor,  where  there  was  an  island 
where  four  of  our  men  went  ashore,  bringing  back 
strawberries,  gooseberries,  and  single  roses.  Thus 
God  was  merciful  in  giving  us  a  taste  and  smell  of 
the  sweet  fruit  as  an  earnest  of  his  bountiful  goodness.** 
This  quaint  entry  Higginson  makes  in  his  Journal  in 
the  month  of  June,  1 629. 

And  now,  if  we  wish  to  seek  out  our  earliest 
Spring  flower,  and  see  Nature  in  its  first  unfolding, 
we  must  take  our  walk  in  the  breezy  month  of  March. 
The  Skunk  Cabbage  is  sometimes  found  earlier,  but  it 
is  safer  to  wait  till  the  middle  of  March.  We  will 
start  at  the  foot  of  Mt.  Vernon  St.,  which  is  a  well- 
known  locality  to  people  resident  in  Gloucester,  but 
for  a  stranger  we  might  say,  start  from  the  post-office. 


10    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

go  up  Pleasant  St.  to  Prospect,  turn  to  the  right  and 
walk  to  Mt.  Vernon,  which  we  find  on  the  left. 
Starting  then  from  the  foot  of  the  street,  we  go  up  the 
hill,  following  the  road  till  we  come  to  Perkins  St., 
which  crosses  it  at  right  angles;  and  here  we  stop  a 
moment  to  enjoy  the  fine  view  of  the  harbor  visible  at 
this  point.  Now  we  turn  to  the  left,  going  up 
Perkins  St.,  till  we  come  to  a  path  leading  up  into 
the  woods.  We  follow  this  path,  which  takes  us 
across  Lamb  Ledge,  and  gives  us  a  fine  opportunity 
of  viewing  in  this  unusual  assemblage  of  rocks,  a 
section  of  the  terminal  moraine.  Once  this  entire 
locality  was  a  large  sheep  pasture,  and  from  the  fact 
that  the  lambs  often  strayed  among  the  rocks,  got 
wedged  in,  and  were  unable  to  extricate  themselves, 
the  place  acquired  the  name  of  Lamb  Ledge. 

We  keep  to  the  right  across  the  ballground,  and 
soon  come  out  on  the  old  Rockport  Road  which  is  a 
well  defined  public  way.  We  walk  along  this  road, 
and  in  the  swamp  on  the  left,  we  find  the  Skunk 
Cabbage.  Do  not  look  fbr  leaves, — they  appear 
later;  we  shall  only  see  pointed  spathes,  piercing  the 
brown,  cheerless  meadow. 

"Come  gentle  Spring!  ethereal  mildness!  come, 
And  from  the  bosom  of  yon  dropping  cloud, 
While  music  wakes  around  veil'd  in  a  shower 
Of  shadowing  roses,  on  our  plains  descend." 

This  plant  belongs  to  the  Arum  family,  the  tiny 
flowers  being  ranged  along  the  spadix,  like  the  Calla 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    II 

Lily  to  which  it  is  closely  related;  the  mottled,  purple 
spathe  corresponding  to  the  pure  white  one  of  the 
latter.  It  is  unfortunate  that  this,  our  earliest  Spring 
flower,  should  have  the  unpleasant  odor  that  its  name 
suggests,  but  it  has  won  a  place  in  our  regard  by  its 
energy  and  courage;  for  the  plant  knows  no  rest,  the 
fallen  and  withered  leaf  being  transfixed  by  the  rising 
bud. 

Having  now  obtained  our  quest,  we  will  return 
home,  and  our  walk  will  not  be  uninteresting.  While 
Nature  is  not  yet  in  her  Spring  attire, 

"We  see  where  surly  Winter  passes  off 
Far  to  the  north  and  calls  his  ruffian  blasts." 

The  view  of  the  hills  stretching  out  towards 
Dogtown  and  further  west  to  Annisquam  possesses  a 
beauty  all  its  own,  for  I  know  of  no  sight  more 
appealing  than  that  of  the  little  evergreens  rising  here 
and  there  out  of  the  grey  bouldered  pastures  sil- 
houetting themselves  against  the  bare  deciduous  trees 
about  to  respond  to  the  regenerating  touch  of  Spring. 

The  graceful  tassels  of  the  Tag  Alder  are  quite 
in  evidence,  and  both  Beeches  and  Maples  are 
beginning  to  show  color.  We  now  go  along  till  we 
see  a  flat  stone  in  the  wall  to  the  left.  We  get  over 
this  wall,  and  see  a  path;  between  this  path  and  the 
wall,  there  is  a  cellar — said  to  be  that  of  an  old 
school-house.  By  following  this  path,  we  come  out  to 
the  Alewive  Brook,  and  we  now  take  a  path  by  a 


12 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 


ridge  which  leads  to  higher  ground;  here  we  find 
another  path,  which  brings  us  out  to  the  same  old 
Rockport  Road,  only  farther  down;  and  without 
further  direction  we  may  find  our  way  to  town  by 
going  down  Trask  St.,  through  Judy  Millet's  parlor, 
or  by  Maplewood  Avenue. 

If  this  walk  is  taken  in  April,  Hobble-bush  and 
Spice-bush  buds  may  be  found;  in  May,  Robin's 
Plantain,  Wild  Roses  and  Lady  Slippers  in  Babson's 
pasture;  in  June,  Mountain  Laurel;  and  in  July,  in 
Curtis*  pasture,  Red  Lilies  and  Polygala. 


II 


AROUND  THE  LITTLE  HEATER  ROAD 
FOR  ARBUTUS 

"What  joy  when  Winter  lingered  long 
To  seek  with  ever  new  surprise 
The  dripping  banks,  whose  mouldering  leaves  among 
The  modest  Mayflower  lifts  its  tender  eyes." 

OUBTLESS  the  feeling  that  inspired  the 
above  lines  has  found  a  responsive  chord 
in  our  ow^n  hearts,  and  accounts  for  the 
ardor  with  which,  with  every  recurrent 
Spring,  we  seek  the  lovely  Arbutus  blossoms,  to  which 
the  Pilgrims  gave  the  name  of  Mayflower. 

The  long  winter  has  yet  scarcely  passed  from  our 
remembrance,  but  the  snow  has  given  place  to  the 
moisture  of  thawing  sod,  and  we  hunt  under  the 
mouldering  leaves  for  the  modest  but  fragrant  flower. 
With  what  joy  we  behold  the  first  blossom;  and  even 
if  after  a  long  tramp,  we  are  able  to  take  home  just  a 
few  clusters,  we  feel  repaid  for  our  exertion.  Never 
very  abundant  in  our  woods,  and  now  probably  not 
so  abundant  as  in  former  years,  there  are  places  on  the 
Rafe*s  Chasm  road  and  Magnolia  Avenue  where  it 
yet  may  be  found. 

To  this  latter  place  we  will  wend  our  way  this 
afternoon.    We  take  a  West  Gloucester  bus,  and  get 


14    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

off  at  Magnolia  Avenue,  once  called  the  Little  Heater 
Road.  It  received  that  name  from  the  fact,  that  the 
territory  enclosed  by  the  connection  of  this  road  with 
the  Magnolia  and  West  Parish  roads,  took  a  three 
cornered  shape,  similar  to  an  old-fashioned  snovy^-plow, 
which  was  called  a  heater.  We  turn  in  this  road, 
pass  the  station,  and  when  about  half  way  through — 
a  mile  at  least  from  the  station — on  the  left  hand  side 
of  the  road,  we  shall  find  the  Arbutus. 

Please  be  careful  in  picking  the  flower,  not  to 
disturb  the  root,  for  it  will  not  be  long,  unless  the  plant 
is  more  tenderly  handled,  before  this  beautiful  har- 
binger of  Spring,  will  become  entirely  extinct  in  our 
woods.  Searching  beneath  the  **  mouldering  leaves'* 
we  have  culled  a  modest  bouquet,  and  now  we  take 
an  abrupt  turn  to  the  left,  following  a  path  that  leads 
up  to  a  brook.  Here  we  are  likely  to  find  Yellow 
Violets,  Hobble-bush,  Bellwort,  Cassandra,  and  Sweet 
Gale.  We  cross  the  brook  and  go  toward  the  east, 
the  path  we  are  now  on  being  quite  a  crooked  one; 
but  still  it  is  a  path  all  the  way,  leading  us  up  over  a 
hill,  passing  Wallace  Pond  on  the  left,  and  bringing 
us  out  to  the  Gipsy  camp  by  Fernwood  Lake.  Here 
we  will  sit  down  and  wait  for  the  bus  that  takes  us 
back  to  town.  If  we  have  our  Whittier  with  us,  we 
will  take  out  our  volume  and  read  his  poem  called 
"The  Mayflowers** — Mrs.  Dana  cafls  our  attention 
to  it  in  her  "Wild  Flowers**,  and  particularly  to  the 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    15 

lines  that  brought  courage  and  hope  to  the  Quaker 
poet  in  the  dark  period  of  the  Civil  War. 

"  But  warmer  suns  erelong  shall  bring 
To  life  the  frozen  sod, 

And  through  dead  leaves  of  hope  shall  spring 
Afresh  the  flowers  of  God." 


t^  ^    -^ 


III 


TO  SALT  ISLAND  FOR  DUTCHMAN'S 
BREECHES.     AN  APRIL  WALK 

"  Yet  not  alone  my  being  grew 
By  Ocean's  influence  vague  and  free. 
But  all  the  secret  of  the  Springtime  knew 
With  beauty's  patient  growth  in  flower  and  tree." 

HUS  sang  James  Parsons,  a  lineal  descend- 
ant of  that  Jeffrey  Parsons,  who  made 
his  home  in  1685  on  the  Joppa  Road, 
now  Witham  Street.  We  do  not  know 
what  analogy  to  the  Ancient  Joppa  appealed  to  the 
early  residents  of  this  locality,  that  they  should  have 
given  it  this  name.  We  know  that  the  fishing  business 
was  once  vigorously  prosecuted  here,  and  that  this 
road  was  once  lined  with  fishermen*s  homes  —  it  was 
also  the  road  leading  to  the  sea.  Perhaps  for  the 
latter  reason  alone  it  received  its  name;  be  that  as  it 
may,  it  is  over  this  old  road  we  shall  traverse  this  after- 
noon toward  Salt  Island  in  our  search  for  Dutchman's 
Breeches  and  Dogtooth  Violets. 

In  taking  this  walk,  we  must  make  our  time 
conform  to  the  requirements  of  the  tide,  for  it  is  only 
at  dead  low  water  that  a  dry  crossing  can  be  made  to 
the  Island;  but,  having  made  the  necessary  calculations, 
we  take  the  Rockport  bus,  and  proceed  to  Witham 


18    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

Street,  where  we  get  off  and  walk  down  the  quaint 
old  road,  noting  the  few  old  houses  still  left  here 
nestling  among  the  trees  and  overgrown  bush.  The 
original  Jeffrey  Parsons  house  is  gone,  but  one  built 
not  long  after  to  take  its  place,  may  still  be  seen  on 
the  left,  though  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road  from 
where  it  originally  stood.  It  is  the  last  house  before 
coming  to  the  road  that  turns  off  to  Starknaught 
Heights.  We  follow  this  road  to  the  shore,  and  if 
we  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  time  ourselves  cor- 
rectly, we  pass  over  dry-shod  to  the  island,  get  our 
flowers  without  waiting  long  enough  to  be  overtaken 
by  the  tide,  and  recross  to  the  mainland.  Later  in  the 
month  or  in  May,  Columbine  and  also  Anemones 
may  be  found  on  the  island. 

Returning,  we  may  reach  home  by  various  routes; 
by  the  way  we  came,  which  is  the  shortest,  but  if  we 
wish  to  prolong  our  walk,  we  can  go  along  the  shore 
nearly  to  the  Pavilion,  cross  the  sand,  follow  the  path 
or  roadway  over  Starknaught  Heights,  and  come  out 
farther  down  on  Witham  Street.  Still  another  way 
would  be  to  walk  across  Little  Good  Harbor  Beach, 
and  cross  over  to  the  Bass  Rocks  road. 

Whichever  way  we  take,  our  vision  commands 
a  long  stretch  of  coast-line  with  the  broad  Atlantic  in 
full  view.  Those  of  us  who  remember  the  late 
Dr.  Bartlett,  for  many  years  Rector  of  St.   Mary's 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 


19 


Church,  Rockport,  will  be  pleased  to  see  his  beautiful 
lines  quoted  below. 

"Where  the  rock- pinioned  beach  holds  back  the  strong  ocean. 
And  the  oft-changing  scene  entrances  our  eyes, 
Where  the  waves  toss  their  foam,  and  are  always  in  motion. 
And  deep  calls  to  deep  with  thundrous  replies, 
The  soul  must  be  dead  that  can  feel  no  emotion 
When  the  marvellous  sea  continues  to  speak. 
Thoughts  deeper  than  words,  and  not  a  vain  notion 
Inspires  us  towards  loftiest  aims  to  upreach." 


IV 

TO  FRESH  WATER  COVE 
AND  RAPE'S  CHASM 

'Winter  is  past;  the  heart  of  Nature  Warms 
Beneath  the  wrecks  of  unresisted  storms 
Doubtful  at  first,  suspected  more  than  seen 
The  southern  slopes  are  fringed  with  tender  green ; 
On  sheltered  banks,  beneath  the  dropping  eaves 
Spring's  earliest  nurslings  spread  their  glowing  leaves." 

HIS  walk  that  we  are  anticipating,  so 
varied,  so  beautiful,  and  so  full  of  historic 
interest,  would  be  pleasurable  at  any 
season  of  the  year;  for  of  all  the  walks 
that  we  have  taken  or  may  take,  not  one  has  such  a 
combination  of  beaches,  brooks,  granite  headlands, 
meadows,  swamps  and  evergreen  woods  as  has  this. 
In  Spring  however,  we  feel  most  powerfully  the  call  of 
the  open,  and  what  a  joy  it  is  to  be 

"  Beside  the  stream,  where  last  year  blossoms  dead 
Mouldered  to  dust,  a  new  life  lifts  its  head." 

We  will  start  from  Blynman  Bridge  known  until 
recently  as  the  **Cut  Bridge'*.  The  old  name  if  not 
elegant  was  sufficiently  suggestive,  but  perhaps  it  is 
well  to  remember  the  enterprising  parson  who  first 
carried  into  execution  the  project  that  had  been  for 
some  years  before  the  Colonial  goverrmient.  Strange 
as  it  may  seem  to  us,  the  clergymen  of  that  day  were 


22         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

much  occupied  with  things  outside  of  their  profession. 
Of  his  successor  Mr.  Emerson,  Mr.  Babson  quaintly 
remarks  "he  was  not  indifferent  to  the  secular  affairs 
of  life,  for  he  became  the  sole  or  chief  owner  of  the 
three  mills  of  the  town  and  died  possessed  of  a  con- 
siderable estate*'. 

Perhaps  Mr.  Blynman  had  he  stayed  here  longer, 
might  also  have  laid  up  "treasures  on  earth",  but  he 
seems  to  have  had  a  comet-like  personality.  Suddenly 
appearing  from  another  field  of  labor  with  a  company 
of  followers,  he  organizes  a  church,  cuts  a  canal, 
crosses  it  with  a  bridge,  and  after  sweeping  across  the 
sky,  sinks  below  the  horizon  taking  in  his  train  so 
many  followers  that  the  church  is  too  impoverished  to 
support  a  successor  till  many  years  after.  Well,  at  all 
events  he  did  us  good  service,  and  standing  on  the 
spot  where  his  foresight  and  energy  united  the  waters 
of  Ipswich  Bay  with  those  of  the  broad  Atlantic,  we 
pay  our  respects  to  his  memory. 

But  we  are  not  quite  ready  to  take  our  real  walk 
for  before  starting  let  us  stop  a  bit  longer  and  take  in 
all  the  delightful  views  that  are  spread  out  before  us. 
It  is  not  often  that  the  eye  can  compass  so  much  that 
is  varied  and  beautiful  from  a  single  view  point,  and 
we  must  not  miss  any  of  it. 

To  the  left  lies  the  beach — "The  Beach"  of  the 
town  which  once  used  to  be  gay  with  bathers  every 
Summer  morning.     Notice  how  gently  it  curves  to  the 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    23 

headland,  or  fort,  as  we  say,  though  it  is  a  fortification 
no  longer;  but  in  Revolutionary  times  earthworks  were 
thrown  up  there  and  it  boasted  of  eight  twelve 
pounders,  with  which  it  was  supposed  to  protect  the 
inner  harbor  where  all  of  the  business  of  the  town 
was  done.  Further  to  the  east,  picturesque  Rocky 
Neck  is  seen,  making  little  Harbor  Cove  where 
Champlain  came  something  more  than  three  hundred 
years  ago.  We  can  almost  see  them  caulking  up  their 
little  shallop  and  going  ashore  to  wash  their  soiled 
linen.  Then  the  long  shore  line  of  Eastern  Point 
stretching  out  to  the  entrance  of  the  outer  harbor 
folding  in  its  embrace  Ten  Pound  Island,  where 
Hutchinson's  men  found  wild  strawberries,  goose- 
berries, and  single  roses.  This  finishes  a  picture  you 
would  travel  far  to  equal. 

To  the  right  a  rocky  beach  terminating  in  a 
headland  covered  with  oaks  presents  a  bold  coast  line, 
and  swinging  round  to  the  north  we  follow  the  canal 
to  the  place  where  it  loses  its  straight  and  artificial 
lines  and  becomes  a  gentle  tidal  river  meandering  over 
salt  marshes  against  a  background  of  pine  covered 
hills  to  Ipswich  Bay. 

"How  silent  in  the  morning,  and  how  still 
The  river  winds  along,  while  tangled  grasses 
Bend  the  swaying  tide  as  on  it  passes ; 
And  seems  to  wander  at  its  own  sweet  will 
Reflecting  on  its  bosom,  rock  and  hill. 
The  lingering  masses  over  sand  hills  haze 
To  open  sea." 


24    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

We  will  go  on  now  and  instead  of  taking  the 
prosaic  highway  we  will  cross  the  Park  beneath  the 
two  lines  of  beautiful  elms.  This  tract  of  land  was 
once  a  part  of  the  Whittemore  farm,  owned  by 
Samuel  Whittemore  the  first  teacher  of  a  permanent 
Grammar  School  at  the  Harbor  and  a  prominent 
citizen  of  his  time.  Subsequently  it  became  the  prop- 
erty of  Mr.  Benjamin  K.  Hough  who  set  out  the  elm 
trees  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century  and  from 
whose  heirs  the  city  bought  it  in  1898  for  a  public 
park. 

Meandering  along  this  pretty  road,  we  pass  the 
headland  on  the  left  where  remains  of  the  earthworks 
of  the  Civil  War  period  can  still  be  seen;  and  Half 
Moon  Beach  that  Lane  the  artist  used  to  love  to  paint, 
throwing  over  it  that  lovely  roseate  hue  that  was  so 
peculiar  to  him. 

Now  we  come  to  the  further  headland  from 
which  we  get  the  most  spacious  view  of  the  harbor 
and  the  open  sea  beyond;  and  then  crossing  over 
Fishermen's  Field  where  the  bronze  tablet  tells  the 
story  of  those  fourteen  men  who  wintered  here  in 
1 623-4,  thus  laying  the  first  foundation  stones  of  that 
structure  which  afterward  became  the  Commonwealth 
of  Massachusetts,  we  come  out  on  the  highway. 

Here  our  road  leads  along  the  shore,  and  we 
come  to  a  place  called  steep  bank,  rightly  so  called 
for  its  side  leads  down  to  the  water  almost  perpendic- 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN  25 

ularly.  In  August  it  is  covered  with  the  tall  yellow 
gerardia,  whose  stalks  sometimes  six  or  seven  feet 
high,  thrust  their  loveliness  into  mid-air  for  the  pleasure 
of  the  passer-by. 

Passing  the  Hovey,  now  Hammond  Place,  we 
come  to  Sawyer's  Hill  though  the  road  is  much  wider 
and  the  declivity  much  less  steep  than  it  was  some 
years  ago.  At  the  foot  of  it  lies  the  Sawyer  house 
much  added  to,  but  the  original  homestead  not  much 
altered,  since  Mr.  Sawyer's  death.  Here  lived  in 
Summer  Mr.  Samuel  E.  Sawyer  who  attested  his  love 
for  his  native  city  by  giving  us  the  Sawyer  Free  Library 
and  bestowing  on  us  many  other  wise  benefactions. 

Just  beyond  where  the  road  turns  we  see  an  old 
stone  wharf,  where  a  tidal  inlet  runs  up  into  the  marsh. 
An  old  grass  grown  road  leads  down  to  it,  and  here 
the  first  dwellers  of  the  little  hamlet  built  their  tiny 
houses  and  put  out  to  sea  in  their  primitive  fishing 
craft.  This  perhaps  was  two  or  more  centuries  ago, 
and  as  we  straggle  along  the  road  we  see  an  old 
chimney  or  a  gambrel  roof  that  harks  back  also  to  an 
early  period. 

Soon  to  the  left  we  see  a  sign,  "Hesperus 
Avenue*',  and  we  turn  down  this  road,  sorry  that  we 
cannot  say  Master  Moore's  lane,  and  be  understood, 
as  we  used  to  be,  for  till  recent  years  it  was  always  so 
called.  Master  Moore  lived  in  the  little  white  gambrel 
roof  house  on  the  right  as  had  a  generation  of  Moores 


26    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

before  him.  His  father,  William  Moore,  settled  here 
and  built  the  house  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  He  taught  one  of  the  public  schools  in  the 
town  in  1  757.  At  the  time  however,  when  Lindsay 
paid  us  a  visit  he  was  out  in  a  boat  with  his  son 
Joseph,  and  both  were  taken  on  board  the  man-of-war 
as  they  had  a  pleasant  habit  of  doing  in  1775.  Joseph 
was  a  boy  of  twelve  and  was  put  ashore  near  his 
home,  but  his  father  was  never  more  heard  from. 

On  arriving  at  manhood  Joseph  followed  his 
father's  profession  of  teaching  and  became  a  very 
famous  instructor  of  navigation.  From  all  over  the 
town  came  the  flower  of  old  Gloucester  families, 
between  voyages,  to  learn  the  science  that  enabled 
them  to  do  business  on  the  great  waters.  He  also 
published  a  text  book  on  navigation;  one  copy  of 
which  at  least  the  writer  knows  to  be  in  existence. 

From  now  on  in  their  season,  flowers  line  our 
pathway.  Just  below  on  the  other  side  of  the  street 
we  see  a  cottage  always  known  as  the  Dilloway 
house,  and  in  April  and  May  we  may  find  in  the 
meadow  back  of  it  dog  tooth  violets.  There  are  no 
houses  after  this,  but  searching  among  the  barberry 
bushes  we  shall  find  places,  nothing  more  than  holes 
now,  which  were  once  cellars  of  old  settlers*  houses 
and  which  give  shelter  to  the  gay  columbine  and 
yellow  celandine.  In  late  autumn,  the  pink  petals  of 
Herb  Robert  and  the  straw  colored  flowers  of  the 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    27 

witch-hazel,  give  us  a  last  bit  of  color  before  the 
sleep  of  Winter  begins.  Across  the  way  from  these 
cellars  down  in  a  boggy  spot  grow  huge  stalks  of 
thoroughwort,  and  vines  of  the  ground  nut  sprawling 
over  everything  with  delicious  freedom. 

Our  road  is  interesting  and  we  walk  on  unmind- 
ful of  time,  sometimes  catching  a  glimpse  of  the  ocean 
through  the  branches  of  the  oaks  and  pine  and  always 
with  the  ceaseless  noise  of  its  movement  in  our  ears. 
After  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so,  we  see  a  red  granite 
island,  so  near  the  shore  that  in  a  low  course  of  tides 
it  may  be  reached  by  wading.  This  is  Norman's 
Woe  and  no  one  knows  why  it  received  this  name, 
unless  like  Thacher*s,  because  of  an  awful  tragedy 
occurring  there.  We  know  that  a  Richard  Norman 
sailed  on  a  voyage  from  which  he  never  returned. 
Nothing  but  sea  golden  rod  and  a  weird  little  gray 
sedge  grow  upon  it,  and  we  fancy  they  must  feel  the 
discouragement  of  living  with  such  slight  chance  of 
ever  being  picked  by  human  hands. 

With  the  splash  of  the  waters  beating  against  its 
sides  keeping  us  constantly  in  mind  of  shipwrecks 
occurring  here,  we  walk  on  quite  a  piece  till  we  come 
to  a  red  brook,  and  after  that  a  white  one.  And 
here  we  find  a  wealth  of  flowers,  cowslips,  clintonia, 
violets  blue  and  yellow,  bunchberry,  wild  geranium, 
and  many  others;  perhaps  too,  on  the  hills  on  the 


28    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

right  we  have  found  the  ever  charming  arbutus,  for  it 
grows  in  the  woods  about  here: — 

"  I  wandered  lonely  where  the  pine  trees  made 
Against  the  bitter  East  their  barricade. 
And  guided  by  its  sweet 
Perfume,  I  found  within  a  narrow  dell 
The  trailing  Spring  flower  tinted  Hke  a  shell 
Amid  dry  leaves  and  mosses  at  my  feet." 

After  passing  the  white  brook  the  rough  road 
turns  abruptly  to  the  left  and  a  sign  board  tells  us  that 
the  Chasm  lies  in  this  direction.  A  gently  rising  foot 
path  of  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  over  low  shrubs 
and  mountain  cranberry,  leads  us  to  the  brow  of  a 
sharp  precipice,  and  here  we  have  what  we  have 
come  to  see,  Rafe*s  Crack  or  Chasm  as  it  is  now 
called. 

This  fissure  is  not  a  score  of  feet  across  its 
greatest  width,  and  at  its  narrowest  can  be  jumped, 
but  looking  down  into  its  depths  from  a  height  of  sixty 
feet,  one  is  overpowered  by  the  sublime  majesty  of 
the  sea.  On  a  pleasant  day,  the  rumbling  and  the 
gurgling  of  the  waves  as  they  find  their  way  to  the 
narrow  angle  of  the  upper  end,  and  dash  against  its 
sides  in  their  retreat,  is  indeed  impressive,  but  in  a 
storm,  the  sight  must  be  well  nigh  unbearable.  "Man's 
control**  indeed  "stops  with  the  sea'*. 

Standing  on  the  higher  or  eastern  edge  of  the 
Chasm  we  have  a  view  of  the  open  ocean  close  at 
hand,  and  of  the  spires  of  Gloucester  in  the  distance 

"Touched  by  a  light  that  hath  no  r>ame 
A  glory  never  sung." 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 


29 


It  is  time  to  be  thinking  of  the  return  home.  We 
have  seen  enough;  let  us  walk  into  Magnolia  and 
take  the  bus  on  our  way  back.  We  shall  be  travelling 
by  the  light  of  the  setting  sun  and  all  that  we  have 
seen  and  felt  seems  now  only  a  beautiful  dream, 


"But  beauty  seen  is  never  lost 
God's  colors  are  all  fast." 


V 

OVER   FOX   HILL  FOR   RHODORA 

"  Rhodora !  if  the  Sages  ask  thee  why 
This  charm  is  wasted  on  the  earth  and  sky, 
Tell  them,  dear,  that  if  eyes  were  made  for  seeing. 
Then  Beauty  is  its  own  excuse  for  being." 

HESE  much-quoted  words  from  Emerson 
remind  us  that  it  is  about  the  middle  of 
May,  and  the  brilliant,  purplish-pink 
flower,  immortaHzed  by  him,  must  now 
be  in  its  glory.  And  it  is  not  only  the  beauty  of  the 
flower  we  shall  see  and  feel  this  afternoon,  but  the 
melancholy  beauty  that  clings  to  old  neglected  roads, 
once  replete  with  life,  but  now  mostly  traversed  by 
lovers  of  Nature. 

It  is  true  we  start  out  on  a  thoroughfare  teeming 
with  modern  industries,  but  after  a  while,  we  shall  find 
ourselves  away  from  the  noisy  highway  picturing  to 
ourselves  the  ways  and  customs  of  primitive  days, 
when  the  home,  with  its  little  garden  wrested  from  an 
unwilling  soil,  the  mill,  and  the  church,  completed  the 
circle  of  the  early  settlers'  existence.  We  will  start 
from  Wass  Square,  which  for  the  benefit  of  the 
summer  visitor  we  will  say  is  situated  at  the  junction 
of  Maplewood  Ave.  and  Prospect  Street,  to  the  right 
of  Swift's  store-house.  We  follow  this  avenue  through 
its  entire  length  to  its  junction   with  Poplar  Street. 


32         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

Not  many  years  ago,  this  whole  district  was  pasture 
land,  and  Gloucester  Ave.,  which  we  have  passed  on 
our  right,  was  the  old  road  to  Rockport,  over  which 
for  nearly  fifty  years,  the  settlers  of  that  locality  wended 
their  way  to  the  I  st  Parish  church  on  the  Green. 

Respectable  tradition  asserts  that  the  first  dry- 
goods  shop  of  the  town  was  located  on  the  spot 
opposite  the  beginning  of  this  old  road,  where  in  the 
writer's  remembrance  (all  beyond  being  pasture  land) 
it  turned  a  corner  in  joining  the  street  or  road  just 
mentioned.  This  seems  less  improbable  on  reflection, 
than  at  first  thought,  when  one  remembers  that,  while 
for  a  number  of  years  after  our  settlement,  all  the  finer 
material  for  wearing  apparel  and  house  furnishing  was 
brought  over  in  ships  to  the  well-to-do,  as  a  private 
importation,  there  were  many  not  so  well  placed, 
whose  wants  were  mostly  supplied  by  home  products. 
These  were  glad  to  add  a  kerchief,  ribbon,  cheap 
shawl  or  a  yard  or  two  of  India  cotton — the  outcome 
of  some  sailor's  adventure — to  their  home  spun;  and 
a  shop  of  this  kind  may  have  existed  there  to  catch 
the  trade  of  connecting  roads. 

We  turn  the  corner  into  Poplar  Street,  and  from 
this  point  on,  we  shall  travel  over  some  of  the  oldest 
roads  in  town.  Walking  toward  the  west,  we  come 
to  Cherry  Street,  once  prettily  called  Fox  Hill,  and 
turn  in  this  road;  but  while  standing  on  this  corner, 
we  will  take  a  look  about  us.    In  the  earliest  years  of 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    33 

our  settlement,  this  was  a  much-traveled  road.  At  the 
extreme  west  on  the  Green,  lay  the  meeting-house  of 
the  first  Organized  church;  just  around  the  corner, 
on  the  right  of  the  Fox  Hill  road,  was  the  first  mill  of 
the  town — a  grist-mill  first,  and  then  a  fulling-mill  — 
and  it  was  also  the  only  road  to  Annisquam.  Some- 
where on  the  road  between  here  and  Washington 
Street,  lived  Parson  Emerson  —  the  minister  who 
succeeded  Mr.  Blynman—  and  the  house  now  occu- 
pied by  Mr.  Albert  Procter,  which  was  the  birthplace 
of  the  lamented  Col.  Allen,  for  whom  the  G.  A.  R. 
Post  is  named,  was  built  on  the  original  site  of  the 
Thomas  Allen  house. 

Having  turned  into  the  Fox  Hill  road,  we  stop 
at  the  Alewife  Brook,  so  called  because  in  former 
years,  Alewives  in  large  quantities  came  up  here  to 
spawn,  and  look  for  evidences  of  the  old  mill;  they 
are  still  there,  and  a  few  years  ago  were  quite 
apparent,  but  are  now  concealed  beneath  a  thick 
growth  of  bush. 

We  climb  the  hill,  noting  as  we  walk  up  the 
roadway  two  old  poplar  trees,  that  stand  as  sentinels, 
and  a  winding  path  at  the  left  that  led  to  Tammy 
Younger*s  house,  which  was  still  standing  in  the 
memory  of  some  living.  The  writer  remembers  a 
well-defined  chimney  standing  stark  against  the  sky; 
but  now,  not  even  the  cellar  is  discernible.  After 
Tammy  died,  the  house,  and  what  little  there  was  in 


34    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

it,  was  left  to  decay  by  the  slow  process  of  Nature, 
for  not  even  the  children  dared  to  invade  the  precincts. 
Tammy's  reputation  as  a  witch  having  projected  itself 
into  a  considerable  space  of  time  after  she  had  left 
these  earthly  scenes. 

We  take  up  our  walk  again,  and  not  far  from 
Tammy's  house  on  the  left,  we  see  an  old  cellar;  but 
evidences  of  early  inhabitants  are  fast  disappearing, 
and  the  delightful  grass-grown  road  of  a  few  years 
ago  has  given  place  to  a  more  frequented  thoroughfare. 
The  direction  of  the  road  has  not  been  changed,  but 
new  houses  have  been  built,  and  much  of  the  old 
charm  has  gone. 

We  go  on,  passing  Reynard  Street  on  the  left, 
which  leads  out  to  Washington  Street  and  the  old 
grist-mill,  which  was  in  operation  till  within  a  compara- 
tively short  time  ago.  There  has  been  a  mill  on  this 
spot  since  1652 — first  a  saw-mill,  and  in  1678  a 
grist-mill  was  erected.  It  may  be  interesting  to  those 
of  the  Catholic  faith  to  know  that  in  a  house,  owned 
and  lived  in  by  John  Dooly, — now  torn  down,  but 
just  around  the  corner  on  Reynard  Street — mass  was 
celebrated  for  the  first  time  in  our  city. 

We  soon  come  to  the  Gravel  Hill  road  on  the 
right,  which  we  pass,  and  walk  along  skirting  Dogtown, 
which  lies  to  the  east;  and  here  we  have  a  better 
view   of   the   hills,  dotted    over    with    boulders    and 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    35 

patches  of  Bayberry.     The  sun  is  casting  shadows,  and 
before  we  know  it,  we  are  repeating  Bickerstith*s  lines : 

"  Our  lives  are  like  the  shadows 
On  sunny  hills  that  lie." 

Soon  we  come  to  the  Rhodora  on  our  right  so 
brilliant  on  its  leafless  stems  as  to  attract  immediate 
attention.  It  is  a  member  of  the  Heath  family,  rising 
to  the  height  of  one  or  two  feet;  quite  different  from 
the  Arbutus  that  trails  along  the  ground.  Having 
procured  our  flowers,  we  may  walk  straight  ahead  to 
Gee  Avenue,  and  follow  Gee  Avenue  to  Washington 
Street ;  or  we  can  cross  the  pasture,  and  come  out  on 
the  Pilgrim  Hill  road,  or  Holly  Street,  as  it  is  now 
called,  and  proceed  to  Goose  Cove,  or  Dennison 
Street  The  Pilgrim  Hill  road  leads  over  a  very 
delightful  stretch  of  country,  and  makes  a  satisfactory 
finish  to  an  afternoon's  walk. 


VI 

TO  THE  WHALE'S  JAW 
BY  GEE  AVENUE 

'  There  loved  and  blessed  my  spirit  broods 
O'er  barren  commons  dear  to  me." 

|EPHAPS  no  spot  on  Cape  Ann  is  dearer 
to  those  of  us  familiar  with  the  old  roads 
and  by-paths  than  "those  wild  wastes  of 
uplands"  lying  to  the  east  of  Mill  River, 
and  back  of  the  traveled  highway,  known  as  Dogtown. 
We  have  all  felt  its  charm,  and  it  is  not  difficult  to 
discover  wherein  it  lies.  The  grey  boulders,  seamed 
and  worn  by  time,  relieved  only  by  scanty  herbage, 
tell  the  story  of  the  Glacial  Period,  when  this  old 
world  was  being  made  ready  for  habitation ;  and  the 
old  dismantled  cellars,  with  the  pathetic  little  patches 
of  reclaimed  land  beside  them,  speak  of  the  humble 
joys  and  sorrows  of  an  extinct  population. 

Barrenness  and  desolateness  on  all  sides  afford  a 
fruitful  subject  for  the  exercise  of  imagination.  How 
did  this  tract  look  to  the  early  settlers  and  why  did 
they  come  here  and  make  their  early  homes? 

If  we  stop  to  think,  there  were  many  reasons 
contributive  to  the  settlement  of  this  locality.  In  the 
first  place,  land  could  be  had  for  little  or  nothing,  and 
what    is    now    a    barren    waste,   was    at    that    time 


38    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

undoubtedly  covered  with  a  forest  growth.  The 
frequency  of  the  boulder  prevented  a  thick  growth, 
but  there  was  enough  timber  probably  to  build  such 
rude  dwellings  as  they  had,  and  furnish  sufficient  fuel, 
which  they  could  have  for  the  cutting;  small  game 
abounded,  and  they  were  allowed  by  law  to  pasture 
their  few  domestic  animals  on  the  cleared  places. 

It  is  not  unlikely  too,  that  these  simple-minded 
folk  experienced,  instinctively,  a  sense  of  protective- 
ness,  that  from  earliest  times,  the  hills  Iiave  always 
given  to  primitive  man;  they  have  always,  too, 
typified  strength  and  endurance,  "I  will  lift  up  mine 
eyes  unto  the  hills",  says  the  Psalmist,  **from  whence 
Cometh  my  help".  Both  Jacob  and  Moses,  in  giving 
their  parting  blessing,  speak  of  the  "everlasting  hills", 
and  Jesus,  foretelling  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  says  "the 
people  shall  call  upon  the  hills  to  cover  them". 

So  it  seems,  then,  within  the  bounds  of  a  reason- 
able imagination,  to  say  that  both  for  economic  and 
protective  reasons,  this  was  the  home  chosen  by  a 
class  of  people,  whose  occupation  was  intermittent, 
and  whose  living  was  precarious.  People  were  living 
here  previous  to  1  74 1 ,  as  is  shown  by  a  map  of  that 
date;  and  Mr.  Babson  says  in  his  history,  that  just 
after  the  Revolutionary  War,  there  were  about  forty 
houses  scattered  along  the  sides  of  the  old  roads. 
After  this  period,  the  population  declined,  many  of  the 
men  having  perished,  either  in  the  land  or  naval  forces, 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    39 

engaged  in  the  war;  and  the  younger  generation 
having  built  homes  for  themselves  nearer  the  new 
highway,  which  had  gradually  come  into  existence, 
the  old  houses  came  to  be  inhabited  by  widows  only, 
who  got  an  insufficient  support  from  the  products  of 
a  few  domestic  animals,  eked  out  by  the  selling  of 
berries  and  herbs  at  the  Harbor,  and  the  willing  dole 
of  the  charitable. 

Doubtless,  a  disproportionate  number  of  dogs 
were  kept  to  afford  company,  and  to  protect  their 
pitiably  meagre  possessions  from  marauders,  and  this 
led  to  the  locality  being  known  under  the  sobriquet  of 
Dogtown,  which  name  has  clung  to  it  to  the  present  time. 

I  remember  hearing  in  my  childhood  that  they 
never  had  white  flour  but  once  a  year,  at  Thanksgiving, 
when  they  brought  their  pans  down  to  a  merchant  in 
the  Parish,  and  had  them  filled. 

Some  were  still  living  there  in  1832,  in  a 
wretched  condition,  as  is  attested  by  a  letter  in  the 
writer's  possession.  Mention  is  made  in  this  letter  of 
two  ladies  going  up  and  taking  them  clothes  from  the 
"Reading  Society'*,  followed  by  reflections  on  their 
unfortunate  moral  and  physical  condition. 

Mr.  Babson  brings  his  account  of  this  setdement 
poetically  and  charitably  to  a  close,  by  quoting  the  well- 
known   verse   from  Goldsmith's  "Deserted  Village". 

"  But  now  the  sounds  of  population  fail 
No  cheerful  murmurs  fluctuate  in  the  gale; 
No  busy  steps  the  grass -grown  footway  tread, 
But  all  the  blooming  flush  of  life  is  fled." 


40    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

This  is  hardly  a  flower-walk ;  in  the  Spring,  we 
shall  find  only  the  common  hillside  flowers,  such  as 
the  Violet,  Saxifrage,  Bluet,  Cassandra,  and  Sweet- 
briar  Rose;  but  nothing  distinctive.  In  the  Autumn, 
the  Bayberry  with  its  sweet  fragrance  will  be  our  chief 
reward."^ 

We  are,  however,  going  to  view  the  Whale*s 
Jaw,  and  with  this  introduction  to  the  locality,  we  are 
ready  to  set  out.  One  should  go  to  Dogtown  either  in 
the  Spring  or  Autumn,  and  as  it  is  situated  in  the  heart 
of  the  Cape,  the  approaches  to  it  are  many.  The 
walk  we  have  planned  for  today  takes  place  some- 
time in  May,  when  we  shall  witness  the  resurrection 
of  Nature,  and  see  it  in  all  the  beauty  of  its  unfolding. 

We  take  the  bus,  and  get  off  either  at  Stanwood 
Street,  or  Gee  Avenue,  walk  up  either  of  these  streets 
crossing  Cherry  Street,  and  continuing  on  the  same 
road  to  Lemuel  Friend's,  which  has  been  remodeled 
in  recent  years,  but  which  was  once  referred  to  as  the 
old  Castle.  We  keep  straight  on  this  road,  passing 
the  road  to  the  Rifle-Range  on  the  left,  and  soon  on 
the  left  we  shall  see  a  large  boulder,  beside  which  is 
the  cellar  of  Morgan  Stanwood  of  Mr.  Rich's  poem. 

Proceeding  on  our  way,  we  come  to  a  slough, 
which  we  cross  on  stepping-stones,  and  beyond  this, 
is  a  pair  of  bars  which  brings  us  out  to  the  Common, 
so  called  because  the  boundaries  to  the  lots  have  long 

*    Later  in  June  and  July  some  of  the  orchids  are  found  in  the  swamps  near  Vivian's. 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    41 

since  become  indefinable,  and  the  land  is  rented,  as  so 
many  cow-rights. 

We  go  through  the  bars  and  follow  a  grassy 
road  to  an  immense  rock,  called  Peter's  Pulpit,  where 
from  a  near-by  hill,  the  Whale's  Jaw  can  be  clearly 
seen.  Now  from  this  point,  this  same  road,  which  we 
still  keep,  turns  to  the  left,  and  after  following  it  a  short 
distance,  we  leave  it,  and  cross  the  pasture  to  a  swamp, 
around  which  there  is  a  good  path  with  stepping- 
stones.  We  go  around  the  swamp  and  from  there, 
we  take  a  path  directly  to  the  Whale's  Jaw. 

Just  before  arriving  at  our  destination,  we  shall 
see  on  our  right  a  stone  marked  with  a  cross,  once 
believed  to  mark  the  place  of  concealment  of  Capt. 
Kidd's  treasure.  This  rock  once  stood  above  ground, 
but  now  lies  a  couple  of  feet  below  the  surface. 

To  return,  walk  a  short  distance  to  the  North- 
east, and  you  will  find  a  good  path  that  leads  directly 
to  Rockport;  or  take  a  path  to  the  left  down  the 
pasture,  till  you  come  to  a  pair  of  bars,  cross  the 
brook,  climb  a  hill,  and  follow  a  path  that  leads 
to  the  right.  This  leads  to  a  broader  path  which 
goes  to  the  left,  and  comes  out  on  Dennison  Street 


VII 

IN  THE  WOODS  FROM  ANNISQUAM 
TO  LANESVILLE— A  TREE  WALK 

"  How  sweet  it  is  when  Mother  Fancy  rocks 
The  wayward  brain  to  saunter  through  a  wood." 

|HIS  walk  may  be  taken  with  pleasure  and 
profit  at  almost  any  season  of  the  year; 
but  it  would  better  be  taken  in  the 
Spring,  when  Nature  on  all  sides  is 
awakening,  and  the  trees  are  coming  into  leaf.  It  has 
but  scant  historical  interest,  and  the  flowers  we  shall 
meet  with,  unless  we  except  the  Pyrola,  are  only  such 
as  are  common  to  most  woods;  but  we  shall  see  many 
lovely  trees,  both  deciduous  and  evergreen;  and  we 
shall  find  much  pleasure  in  making  them  a  special 
object  of  interest. 

We  will  start  at  Revere  Street,  nearly  opposite 
the  Annisquam  church,  which  takes  us  over  Sand 
Porridge  Hill,  so  called  on  account  of  the  deposit  of 
sand  in  this  locality.  We  see  a  couple  of  old  houses, 
dating  from  the  early  part  of  the  1 8th  Century,  which 
tells  us  that  this  road  was  probably  made  at  the  time 
of  the  setting  off  of  the  3rd  Parish,  as  farther  on  it 
connects  with  the  road  leading  to  the  Sandy  Bay 
settlement. 

It  was  more  convenient  for  people  in  that  part  of 
the  town  to  attend  this  church  than  the  one  on  the 


44         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

Green;  so  we  may  suppose  they  embraced  the  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  so  at  an  early  date.  We  follow  this 
road  past  the  Dennison  house,  which  is  also  one  of  the 
old  landmarks,  going  through  two  pairs  of  bars,  and 
take  the  road  to  the  left  leading  into  the  woods. 

This  tract  of  land  was  burnt  over  a  few  years 
ago;  but  we  find  it  now  covered  with  young  Oaks, 
Beeches  and  Birches,  a  Maple  here  and  there,  and 
Pines.  Trees  have  always  formed  an  interesting 
subject  for  study,  and,  as  we  go  along,  we  might  note 
some  of  the  more  distinctive  facts  concerning  them. 
The  Oak,  for  example,  of  which  we  shall  see  many 
this  afternoon,  is  a  tree  of  great  antiquity;  and  while 
the  legend  that  it  was  the  first  tree  created  by  God, 
can  hardly  be  supported,  we  do  find  it  mentioned 
very  often  in  the  Bible. 

It  seems  both  then,  and  later,  to  have  been  a 
tree  much  venerated,  for  we  read  that  Joshua  set  the 
Stone  of  the  Covenant  under  an  oak;  and  Isaiah 
speaks  of  taking  an  oak  to  make  a  God  of.  It  was 
dedicated  to  Jupiter  by  the  Romans,  and  spoken  of 
by  Virgil  as  "Jove's  own  tree  that  holds  the  woods  in 
awful  sovereignty".  In  England,  this  tree  attains  great 
size,  and  a  round  table,  still  shown  in  Winchester, 
claiming  to  have  been  King  Arthur's,  was  made  from 
a  single  slice  of  oak  cut  from  an  enormous  bole. 

There  are  several  varieties  of  oak  found  on  the 
Cape,    the    White  Oak  being  the  most  easily   dis- 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    45 

tinguished  by  the  rounded  lobes  of  its  leaves,  and  the 
sweetness  of  its  acorns.  It  has  a  white  bark  with 
dark  spots,  and  a  few  of  its  dried  leaves  persist  till 
circulation  is  renewed  in  the  Spring.  Of  all  the  oaks, 
this  is  the  most  durable  for  building  purposes,  especially 
desirable  where  it  has  an  alternate  wet  and  dry 
exposure.  Red  and  Black  Oaks  have  sharp  pointed 
lobes,  bitter  acorns,  and,  while  easily  distinguished  from 
the  white,  are  not  so  easily  distinguished  from  each  other. 
Growing  with  the  Oaks,  we  see  a  great  many 
Beeches.  Modern  forestry  plants  them  together,  as 
young  Beeches  drip  a  great  deal  of  moisture,  and 
protect  the  stems  of  Oak,  till  they  attain  timber  dimen- 
sions. The  Beech  is  a  noble  tree,  and  reaches  to  great 
height.  The  opening  of  the  Beech  bud  in  the  Spring 
is  most  interesting  —  first,  the  tough  brown  sheath, 
then  scales  of  filmy  tissue,  and  then  the  embryo  leaves 
begin  to  unfold ;  at  first,  grey  and  silver  and 

"Then  each  bond  broken  and  burst  at  last. 
All  fluted  and  pointed  and  daintily  curled ; 
Then  green,  just  the  loveliest  green  in  the  world 
They  fling  to  the  breezes  each  fetter  and  gyve. 
And  laugh  for  the  pleasure  of  being  alive." 

We  get  our  word,  book  from  "buck'*  or  Beech, 
thin  plates  of  the  bark  having  furnished  the  earliest 
bindings  for  volumes;  and  tradition  tells  us,  also,  that 
the  letters  of  the  first  book  printed  in  English  were 
fashioned  from  the  bark  of  this  tree. 

With  the  Oaks  and  Beeches,  are  many  young 
Birches,  that  always  come  up  on  newly  burnt  over 


46    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

ground,  and  an  occasional  Maple.  If  we  take  our 
walk  in  April,  we  shall  see  the  Maple  in  flower,  for 
it  is  the  earliest  tree  to  announce  the  return  of  Spring, 
its  blossoms  unfolding  more  than  a  fortnight  before  its 
leaves.  It  is  Coleridge  I  think  who  has  given  us  this 
exquisite  verse  that  Lowell  calls  the  most  beautiful 
landscape  in  words. 

"Beneath  yon  birch  with  silver  bark, 
And  boughs  so  pendulous  and  fair, 
The  brook  falls,  scattered  by  the  rock 
And  all  is  mossy  there." 

Just  before  we  come  to  the  end  of  this  wood 
road,  we  encounter  an  immense  boulder,  but  low 
enough  for  us  to  walk  over,  and  then  we  come  out 
into  an  open  country,  where  there  are  one  or  two 
houses.  If  we  wish,  we  can  turn  down  here  and  find 
a  road  leading  back  to  Revere  Street;  but  those  of 
us  not  faint-hearted,  keep  right  on  the  beaten  track 
which  leads  into  the  old  Rockport  road.  We  may 
follow  this  road  if  we  wish,  and  come  out  not  far 
from  the  station  in  Rockport;  but  if,  after  following 
it  some  distance,  we  take  a  path  to  the  left  which 
soon  becomes  a  road,  it  will  lead  us  over  an  exceed- 
ingly pretty  stretch  of  country. 

Here  we  see  more  trees,  and  come  to  a  place 
where  a  cultivation  of  fruit  trees  is  in  progress,  and 
while  we  do  not  come  across  any  full-grown  Pines,  we 
see  small  ones,  both  White  and  Pitch,  which  are  to 
be  distinguished  by  the  number  of  leaves  or  needles 
in  a   sheath.     A   White   Pine  is   feathery,  has  five 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    47 

leaves  in  a  sheath;  the  Pitch  only  three;  while  the  Red, 
sometimes  called  Norway,  has  only  two.  The  latter, 
I  think,  is  not  indigenous  to  the  Cape.  Then,  while 
the  White  Pine  has  a  straight  tall  trunk  with  lateral 
branches,  the  Pitch  Pine  has  a  more  gnarled  appear- 
ance, and  does  not  grow  to  such  height.  We  come 
to  a  very  pretty  Pitch  Pine  later  on  in  our  walk. 

In  following  this  road,  we  come  to  a  ledge  in 
sight  of  houses,  which  would  bring  us  out  into  Pigeon 
Cove;  but  again  we  take  a  road  to  the  left,  which 
finally  terminates  at  a  quarry  railroad  track.  Here  we 
see  the  pretty  Pitch  Pme,  before  mentioned,  if  ruthless 
hands  have  spared  it.  We  follow  the  track  along, 
work  our  way  round  amongst  some  work-sheds,  pass 
an  enclosure  with  sheep  pasturing  in  it;  and  finally 
come  out  near  the  Lanesville  church. 

We  left  the  Dennison  house  a  little  more  than 
two  hours  ago,  and  we  see  the  bus  waiting  for  us  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  so  we  quicken  our  steps  to  take  it. 
We  have  had  a  beautiful  walk,  and  feel  better  for  it. 

"  Nature  never  did  betray 
The  heart  that  loved  her ;  'tis  her  privilege 
Through  all  the  years  of  this  our  life,  to  lead 
From  joy  to  joy:  for  she  can  so  inform 
The  mind  that  is  w^ithin  us,  so  impress 
With  quietness  and  beauty,  and  so  feed 
With  lofty  thoughts,  that  neither  evil  tongues, 
Rash  judgments,  nor  the  sneers  of  selfish  men. 
Nor  greetings,  w^here  no  kindness  is,  nor  all 
The  dreary  intercourse  of  daily  life. 
Shall  e'er  prevail  against  us,  or  disturb 
Our  cheerful  faith  that  all  which  we  behold 
Is  full  of  blessings." 


VIII 

TO  THE  SOUTHERN  WOODS 
FOR  LAUREL 

"And  what  is  so  rare  as  a  day  in  June? 
Then,  if  ever,  come  perfect  days; 
Then  Heaven  tries  the  earth  if  it  be  in  tune 
And  over  it  softly  her  warm  ear  lays." 

jERE  is  a  day  such  as  the  poet  describes, 
so  let  us  go  for  Laurel.  While  the 
Mountain  Laurel  is  an  evergreen,  and 
always  beautiful  for  its  foliage,  it  is  in 
June  that  we  find  it  in  flower.  It  is  native  to  North 
America,  and  is  found  in  abundance  on  our  hillsides. 
It  is  not  the  Laurel  of  the  Ancients,  symbol  of  victory, 
though  there  is  some  resemblance  in  the  leaves.  (The 
classic  shrub,  supposed  to  be  Laurus  Nobilis,  was 
brought  to  this  country  by  the  colonists,  but  did  not 
thrive  in  our  soil.) 

The  correct  name  of  our  shrub  is  Kalmia,  so 
named  in  honor  of  the  Swedish  Botanist,  Kalm,  who 
was  sent  to  this  country  in  I  748  by  his  government  to 
make  investigations  in  Natural  History.  It  has  been 
transplanted  in  England,  where  it  is  very  much  thought 
of,  and  its  flowering  in  one  of  the  celebrated  gardens 
of  London,  is  advertised  in  the  daily  papers  every  year. 

We  take  the  Rockport  bus,  and  get  out  at  Cape 
Pond  road,  and  follow  this  road  round  to  the  back  side 


50         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

of  the  ice-houses.  Walking  toward  the  east,  we  go  up 
a  little  hill  and  follow  a  path  a  little  to  the  left.  Now 
we  turn  to  the  right,  where  there  are  some  spruce 
trees,  and  after  passing  these  trees,  we  begin  to  find 
laurel.  We  get  over  the  wall,  and  here  we  see  a  road 
that  leads  to  the  laurel  fields. 

Not  long  ago  there  appeared  in  one  of  our  daily 
papers  an  appeal  to  the  public  to  spare  this  plant,  by 
substituting  some  other  green  for  large  decorations,  as 
it  would  become  extinct  if  picked  so  carelessly  as  it 
has  been  in  recent  years.  It  is  propagated  by  seed, 
which  depend  on  bees  or  other  insects  for  fertilization, 
and  if  broken  off  too  close  to  the  ground,  the  plant  dies 
out.  All  guardians  of  our  native  flowers  should 
remember  this,  and  pick  off  only  the  top  branches, 
leaving  always  some  of  the  flowers  to  form  new  plants. 

Now,  having  gathered  our  flowers, 

"We  sit  in  the  warm  shade  and  feel  right  well. 
How  the  sap  creeps  up  and  the  blossoms  swell." 

and  being  rejuvenated,  we  take  up  our  walk  again, 
following  the  same  road,  which  brings  us  out  to  the 
highway  in  Rockport. 

The  softened  rays  of  a  late  afternoon  sun  are 
still  shining  on  our  path,  as  we  turn  our  footsteps 
homeward,  gilding  every  fern  and  leaf  with  the  promise 
of  a  bright  tomorrow. 

Some  of  us  perhaps  were  not  singing  "praises  with 
gladness"  when  we  made  the  oblation  of  the  morning's 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 


51 


homely  task,  but  now  we  have  received  a  touch  of 
nature.  The  step  is  quicker,  the  heart-beats  are 
stronger  and  the  cob-webs  have  have  been  cleared 
from  the  brain. 

"Who  knows  whither  the  clouds  have  fled? 
In  the  unscarred  heaven  they  leave  no  wake; 
And  the  eyes  forget  the  tears  they  have  shed ; 
The  heart  forgets  its  sorrow  and  ache." 


IX 


ALONG  THE  ROAD   FROM    MEETING-HOUSE 
GREEN  TO  WHEELER'S  POINT 

"The  happy  season  comes  apace, 
When  generous  nature  doth  invite 
Those  who  would  view  her  smiling  face, 
Where  best  her  charms  unveil  to  Hght, — 
The  care  worn,  pent  up  city  wight. 
The  student  weary  of  his  books. 
The  scribes  who  endless  themes  indite, 
And  such  as  grope  through  legal  crooks 
To  seek  her  cool  refreshing  nooks." 

HESE  lines  are  taken  from  the  "Summer 
Hegira'*  of  the  late  Judge  Davis  whose 
benignant  presence  many  of  us  remember. 
It  is  particularly  suggestive  of  the  place 
where  we  shall  walk  this  afternoon,  because,  while  for 
many  years  it  was  entirely  inhabited  by  a  few  original 
families  and  their  descendants,  it  has  in  recent  years 
sheltered  a  large  summer  colony.  Almost  everyone 
knows  the  Wheeler's  Point  road,  but  perhaps  few 
know  that  it  is  one  of  our  oldest  thoroughfares,  and 
originally  was  a  continuation  of  Washington  Street,  the 
part  extending  beyond  today  being  of  a  much  later  date. 
The  reason  for  this  was  because  grants  of  land 
were  made  here  very  early  in  our  settlement.  In  1 647 
John  Coit  had  his  residence  on  the  extreme  end.  John 
Pearce  had  a  grant  of  land  here  in  1 65 1  and  gave  a 


54    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

house  lot  to  his  son  in  ]680.  The  Stanwoods,  four 
or  more  of  them,  were  also  here  about  this  time  and 
later.  At  first  it  was  called  Pearce's  Point,  then 
Stanwood*s  Point,  and  I  think  Gee  Point. 

The  property  changed  hands  many  times  till  it 
was  finally  purchased  by  Finson  Wheeler  in  1833 
and  has  been  known  by  its  present  name  ever  since. 
In  the  early  records  the  entire  tract  appears  under  the 
name  of  "Neck  of  House  Lots**,  and  the  point  of  land 
right  across,  now  Annisquam  Point,  Planters  Neck, 
which  also  was  settled  about  the  same  time. 

It  seems  strange  at  first  thought  that  these  remote 
localities  should  have  been  chosen  as  places  of  habi- 
tation by  the  earliest  visitors  to  our  shores;  but  it 
must  be  remembered  that  a  greater  part  of  our  Cape 
was  covered  by  a  thick  forest  growth,  and  while  roads 
were  built  later,  our  first  thoroughfares  were  the  water- 
ways, and  the  "Cut**  having  been  made  in  1643,  the 
river  settlements  could  easily  put  themselves  into 
communication  with  those  at  the  harbor. 

On  this  walk  I  think  we  might  appropriately 
start  at  Meeting-house  Green,  for  it  is  here  that  the 
town  began.  As  is  well  known,  in  those  days  the 
town  existed  for  the  Church,  and  not  the  Church  for 
the  Town,  so  once  a  site  was  established  for  the 
church,  the  town  naturally  grew  around  it.  Four 
successive  churches  were  built  on  this  locality,  the  last 
one  not  being  taken  down  till  1840,  so  it  is  easily 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    55 

seen  that  by  recalling  the  people  who  once  lived  on 
this  road,  especially  the  old  retired  sea  captains,  our 
walk  will  not  be  uninteresting. 

Taking  a  look  behind  before  we  start,  we  see 
what  is  now  known  as  the  Ellery  house,  but  which 
was  built  about  1704  for  Parson  White,  and  right 
opposite  the  gambrel  roof  house  built  for  Joseph  Allen  s 
son  about  1740.  One  of  the  Russia  Sea  Captains 
came  to  live  in  it  in  1 806  making  it  his  home  till  he 
died  thirty  years  later.  His  sea  voyages  were  not 
continued  till  the  time  of  his  death;  he  retired  as  most 
of  them  did,  and  brought  up  his  family  on  the  farm, 
but  old  sea  chests  and  an  immense  hide  covered  trunk 
are  still  in  the  attic  to  call  to  remembrance  his  sea- 
faring days. 

Now  we  walk  along,  and  just  ahead  of  us  we 
see  a  large  white  house  which  by  additions  and 
removal  from  a  lower  level,  have  somewhat  obscured 
its  age,  but  the  large  square  chimney  in  the  middle 
tells  the  story;  another  one  of  the  Russia  ship  masters 
lived  here.  I  am  not  sure  if  he  made  any  voyages 
after  his  marriage  in  I  786,  at  any  rate  he  built  this 
house  in  1  792  on  land  given  him  by  his  father  (who 
lived  in  a  house  of  the  Ellery  type  just  above,)  and 
reared  a  large  family  of  sons  and  daughters. 

The  writer  has  often  heard  it  said  that  he  retired 
with  $21,000,  which  at  that  time  seemed  so  large  a 
fortune  he  did  not  see  how  he  could  ever  spend  it, 


56         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

but  an  ever  increasing  family  I  fancy  must  soon  have 
divested  him  of  that  idea,  for  besides  some  dying  in 
infancy,  eleven  children  grew  to  manhood  and  woman- 
hood. Four  of  the  sons  follow^ed  in  the  footsteps  of 
their  father,  became  ship  masters  and  were  well  known 
in  the  principal  ports  of  the  world.  The  details  of 
this  family  would  not  be  so  particularly  entered  into 
were  it  not  that  it  pictures  a  type  that  was  met  with 
all  over  town  for  about  three-quarters  of  a  century. 
Whole  families  followed  the  sea,  fathers,  and  after 
them  their  sons;  each  boy  as  he  stowed  away  his  sea- 
chest  in  the  forecastle  looking  forward  to  the  time 
when  he  should  be  master  of  a  ship  and  walk  the 
quarterdeck.  This  called  for  not  only  good  seaman- 
ship, but  a  capacity  to  deal  with  situations  such  as  is  not 
known  today,  and  it  was  found  right  here  in  Gloucester. 

Going  on  we  pass  three  modern  houses  of  cheer- 
ful countenance  if  not  of  serious  attitude,  and  then 
come  to  one  which  seems  to  look  rebukingly  at  the 
product  of  the  present  generation.  Its  straight  uprights 
and  solemn  demeanor  shows  it  to  have  outlived  its 
contemporaries,  and  to  be  amongst  the  moderns  but 
not  of  them.  In  spite  of  the  loss  of  its  big  middle 
chimney,  its  wide  front  door  and  small  paned  win- 
dows which  the  hand  of  improvement  has  not  spared, 
its  dignified  frame  and  high-bred  manner  are  left, 
for  which  let  us  be  thankful,  and  also  that  it  rests 
comfortably  on  the  ground  just  as  Parson  Rogers 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    57 

placed  it  when  he  came  to  minister  to  the  people 
of  this  Parish. 

The  pastorate  of  this  good  man  covered  the 
period  of  the  Revolutionary  War;  and  his  anxieties 
w^ere  many,  not  living  to  enjoy  the  blessings  of  peace; 
but  he  left  children  who  lived  to  identify  themselves 
with  the  Gloucester  of  a  happier  period.  One  of  his 
daughters  by  her  marriage  to  William  Babson  became 
the  grandmother  of  our  historian.  John  was  a  noted 
school  teacher  for  forty  years  and  town  clerk  for  thirty- 
five,  and  William  taught  school  in  a  little  schoolhouse — 
under  the  Poles  I  think  —  and  was  also  employed  at 
the  Custom  House.  His  schoolmaster's  desk  is  still 
in  existence  and  the  writer  has  seen  a  water  color 
portrait  of  him  as  a  young  man,  his  hair  cut  short  and 
powdered,  wearing  a  bright  blue  coat;  but  his  best 
portrait  is  preserved  in  the  side-splitting  stories  told 
of  him,  for  he  had  a  jovial  disposition  and  did  not 
regard  things  in  the  serious  manner  of  the  older  brother. 
Two  of  his  sons  were  famous  ship-masters  and  his 
daughter  was  the  mother  of  our  last  anniversary  orator. 

Now  we  come  to  three  or  four  modern  houses 
and  then  to  one  moved  to  its  present  location  as  may 
be  seen  by  its  perched  up  appearance  and  underpinning 
of  recent  date.  Yes,  the  big  chimney  is  gone  but  look 
at  the  fine  front  door  with  the  pilasters  at  the  sides, — 
they  used  to  make  pretty  doorways  in  those  days. 
It  originally  stood  on  the  Pearce  farm  just  above  and 


58    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

one  can  but  wonder  if  these  old  houses  that  sheltered 
large  families  do  not  feel  forlorn,  transplanted  to  other 
surroundings  amongst  people  who  knew  them  not,  in 
earlier  days. 

But  we  must  not  forget  our  flowers ;  let  us  cross 
over  to  the  other  side  and  getting  through  the  bars 
climb  the  rocky  hill.    If  our  walk  be  in  May  we  shall 
find  most  of  the  common  wild  floweis  growing  on  the 
slopes.    I  have  also  found  the  gay  wild  columbine 
there,  and  at  any  time  the  flowering  bushes,  the  lichens 
and  mosses  give  us  a  pleasing  sense  of  nature.    The 
view  also  which  this  elevation  affords  is  very  beautiful 
as  we  look  down  in  the  valley  and  over  across  to  the 
barren  hills  of  Dogtown.    The  farm  bordering  on  the 
highway  with  its  old  apple  orchard,  was,  in  the  writer's 
remembrance,  the  property  of  one  who  bore  the  title 
of  Captain,  but  I  am  not  sure  he  was  a  shipmaster; 
it  may  have  been  a  military  title.    Leaving  no  descend- 
ants in  town,  it  has  passed  into  other  hands. 

By  walking  along  on  the  ridge  of  Poles*  Rocks, 
we  have  come  to  the  end  of  our  elevation,  and  we 
must  clamber  down  the  side  and  get  on  to  our  road 
which  lies  just  below  us.  At  first  the  walk  is  not 
especially  attractive,  but  we  soon  reach  a  pretty  country 
road  and  come  to  a  large  barn  which  is  in  the  rear  of 
a  farm  where  still  another  old  shipmaster  settled  down 
after  his  seafaring  days  were  over  to  till  the  soil,  and 
also  for  many  years,  to  run  the  mill  that  we  see  in 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    59 

retirement  on  the  bridge.  He  had  several  sons  and 
daughters,  one  of  the  latter  marrying  a  Calcutta  captain 
who  made  his  home  with  them.  1  have  heard  it  said 
of  the  captain  first  spoken  of  that  once  he  was  away 
on  a  three  years*  voyage  and  during  all  that  time  never 
once  heard  from  home. 

Now  we  pass  on  the  right  the  little  Wesleyan 
cemetery  where  several  victims  of  the  Civil  War  lie 
buried;  for  this  section  of  the  town  gave  to  the  army 
generously  of  her  young  men,  and  further  on  we  come 
to  Riverview  and  Thurston's  Point  with  their  summer 
colonies.  Harebells  used  to  grow  around  a  bowlder 
at  the  latter  place  but  they  are  now  extinct. 

We  are  now  really  on  the  end  of  the  "Neck  of 
House  Lots**  and  we  wend  our  way  along  the  pleasant 
road  bordered  by  wild  rose  bushes  and  cherry  trees. 
On  the  right  lies  Mill  river  with  the  village  church 
perched  upon  the  hill  and  on  the  left  the  near-by  clam 
flats,  Annisquam  River,  and  the  sand  dunes  of  Coffins 
farm.  It  is  hardly  believable  but  in  place  of  these 
unprofitable  wastes  of  sand  was  once  a  thickly  wooded 
tract  of  land,  the  farm  of  Peter  Coffin.  Here  sur- 
rounded by  his  slaves  he  lived  the  life  of  a  gentleman, 
one  of  the  principal  men  of  the  town,  serving  it  in 
various  capacities.  His  eldest  son  inherited  the  farm, 
but  unsuccessful  in  business  he  came  back  here  to  live 
and  contrary  to  the  express  admonitions  of  his  father, 
cut  down  the  trees,  living  on  the  sale  of  the  timber  as 


60    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

long  as  it  lasted.  With  the  trees  gone  the  sand  swept 
in  and  no  one  living  remembers  it  as  being  other  than 
it  is  now. 

Coming  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  we  miss  an  old 
house  similar  in  architecture  to  the  old  Wheeler  house. 
It  burnt  down  about  a  dozen  years  ago,  but  the  people 
who  lived  in  it  and  who  played  their  part  in  life 
honestly  and  well,  are  worth  remembering,  and  so  too 
are  the  old  fashioned  roses  that  grew  in  the  yard  and 
by  the  front  door. 

And  now  we  see  cottages  sprinkled  along  the 
way  with  their  doorstep  gardens  of  tansy  and  useful 
herbs,  and  just  to  the  right  over  the  wall  we  see  a 
planked  platform  and  wonder  what  it  covers.  This 
platform  covers  a  deep  stoned  up  well,  which  with  an 
oaken  iron  bound  bucket  from  time  immemorial,  had 
served  the  people  of  the  neighborhood  v^th  Nature's 
own  refreshing  drink.  For  some  years  this  part  of  the 
Point  was  owned  by  two  men  and  when  the  last  lot  of 
land  was  sold,  the  owner  of  this  particular  tract,  unwill- 
ing to  deprive  anyone  of  the  privilege  so  long  enjoyed, 
reserved  this  well  with  a  few  feet  of  land  around  it, 
so  that  whosoever  would,  could  drink  of  its  waters  as 
freely  as  in  the  past.  It  held  its  own  for  several  years, 
buckets  and  ropes  being  supplied  as  needed;  then  a 
modern  pump  was  put  down  and  finally  with  the 
introduction  of  city  water  the  well  fell  into  disuse;  but 
perhaps  at  some  future  time  in  the  interest  of  the 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    61 

picturesque,  it  may  be  restored  to  its  former  dignity. 

Just  beyond  this  the  Wheeler  property  began 
and  was  separated  from  it  by  a  stone  wall  with  a  pair 
of  bars.  In  the  old  house  still  standing  was  reared  a 
large  family  of  sons  and  daughters,  most  of  whom 
married  and  settled  in  cottage  houses  near  by. 

The  writer  remembers  Mrs.  Wheeler  very  dis- 
tinctly; in  memory  she  is  always  pictured  as  standing 
in  the  doorway  with  the  lines  of  humor  and  kindness 
playing  around  her  mouth,  and  a  far  off  look  in  her 
eyes.  She  was  a  woman  with  a  good  sense  of  humor, 
and  of  keen  wit. 

I  fear  I  am  picturing  Wheeler's  Point  as  it  used 
to  be  more  than  as  it  is  today.  The  Summer  resident 
has  come  with  ephemeral  looking  cottages,  and  the 
automobile  has  worn  off  the  grass  from  the  country 
road,  but  I  hope  the  originality,  honesty  and  industry 
which  characterized  the  native  population  still  remains. 
They  had  opinions  of  their  own  and  expressed  them. 
Some  were  Methodists  and  took  a  long  walk  up  hill 
and  down  dale,  and  then  again  up  hill  to  the  church 
on  the  opposite  side  where  their  voices  were  heard. 
Others  were  Universalists  and  walked  either  to  the 
harbor  church  or  got  "set  across"  to  the  church  at 
Annisquam.  The  writer  remembers  one  dainty  little 
lady  who  in  black  taffeta  and  Paisley  shawl,  used  to 
pass  by  on  pleasant  Sunday  mornings. 


62         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

But  here  we  are  at  the  very  top  of  the  point 
looking  off  toward  Squam  Bar  with  the  waves  glisten- 
ing in  the  sun,  and  breaking  over  the  bar.  Associated 
with  Squam  Bar  is  a  story  that  was  told  me  when  I 
was  many  years  younger  than  I  am  now,  so  many  that 
I  think  it  may  be  unknown  to  the  present  generation, 
and  may  be  told  again  as  an  example  of  homely  wit 
and  quiet  humor.  It  was  of  an  old  man  who  used  to 
attend  the  meeting  of  the  early  Methodists  and  who 
sometimes  got  impatient  at  the  frequent  rhapsodies  of 
the  brethren  over  the  life  beyond.  At  such  times 
when  he  felt  that  the  soarers  were  soaring  too  high 
and  needed  to  be  called  down  to  earth,  he  raised  his 
quavering  voice  and  sang  the  following  verse: — not 
being  able  to  sound  his  v*s  they  became  w*s  and  this 
is  as  he  sang  it: 

Some  people  they  call  Christians  how  many  things  they  tell 
About  the  land  of  Canaan  where  saints  and  angels  dwell, 
But  wessels  built  by  human  skill  have  never  got  so  far 
But  what  they've  got  aground  on  Squam  River  Sandy  Bar. 

Whether  he  lived  on  this  or  the  other  side  of 
Mill  River  I  do  not  know,  but  he  must  have  been  of 
a  contemplative  turn  of  mind  who  saw  an  analogy 
between  a  vessel  getting  aground  on  Squam  Bar  and 
the  spiritual  obstruction  one  would  encounter  in  prying 
too  particularly  into  the  land  beyond.  In  imagination 
I  can  hear  him  singing  the  last  line  with  ill  concealed 
triumph,  and  the  pause  that  followed  must  have  been 
impressive. 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    63 

In  point  of  actual  walking  we  have  covered  but 
little  time,  but  in  point  of  history  and  reminiscence  we 
have  covered  two  centuries  or  more.  We  hold  in 
our  hands  the  wild  flowers  that  we  have  found  grow- 
ing along  our  pathway,  and  in  our  memories  the  annals 
of  types  of  people  either  wholly  disappeared  or  fast 
disappearing. 

It  is  time  to  retrace  our  footsteps  unless  some 
boatman  appears  who  will  "set  us  across"  to  Annis- 
quam  where  we  will  make  our  way  by  the  pretty 
curving  streets  and  across  the  bridge  to  the  main  road; 
but  if  we  go  back  the  same  way  we  came,  we  may  if 
we  wish  vary  the  walk  by  going  down  the  road  on 
the  right  of  the  cemetery  which  brings  us  out  on 
Hodgkins  Street  in  sight  of  the  old  mill  and  thence  to 
Washington  Street. 


X 


TO   RAVENSWOOD   PARK  TO  VIEW 
THE   MAGNOLIA  IN   FLOWER 

"Long  they  sat  and  talked  together 
Of  the  marvellous  valley  hidden  in  the  depths  of  Gloucester  woods, 
Full  of  plants  that  love  the  summer,  blooms  of  warmer  latitudes, 
Where  the  Arctic  birch  is  braided  by  the  tropics  flowery  vines. 
And  the  white  magnolia  blossoms  star  the  twilight  of  the  pines." 

N  the  great  abundance  of  her  treasures, 
Nature  has  nothing  more  beautiful  than 
the  Magnolia  Glauca,  and  perhaps  that 
is  why  she  has  secreted  it  in  swamps  far 
removed  from  the  hand  of  the  ruthless.  The  ivory 
white  flower  hidden  in  a  cluster  of  leaves,  wonderful 
for  shape  and  color,  emitting  a  most  delicate  perfume, 
makes  a  single  blossom  a  prized  possession;  but  these 
flowers  glorious  in  their  isolation,  are  accessible  only  to 
him  who  knows  the  ways  of  the  swamp. 

They  may  be  seen  however,  from  the  corduroy 
road  in  Ravenswood  Park,  and  while  there  are  three 
entrances  to  the  park,  the  most  direct  approach  to  the 
swamp  is  by  the  old  Salem  Road.  We  take  the 
Manchester  bus  and  get  off  at  Beachmont  Avenue; 
and  almost  directly  opposite  on  the  right  we  see  a 
road  leading  over  the  hill,  which  was  the  old  stage 
coach  road.  We  take  this  road  following  it  past  the 
Hermit's  log  house  and  a  newly  made  road  that  joins 


66         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

it  on  the  left,  and  look  for  a  path  leading  down  the 
slope.  This  path  will  bring  us  out  on  the  corduroy 
road,  from  which  we  can  see  "the  blossoms  that  star 
the  twilight  of  the  pines". 

Single  magnolia  trees  are  also  seen  in  gardens 
round  about  our  city  and  strange  to  say  while  a 
habitat  of  the  swamp,  it  seems  to  thrive  in  soil  not 
especially  wet.  The  writer  knows  of  one  instance  at 
least,  where  two  or  three  survived  a  conflagration, 
coming  up  again  from  the  roots  after  having  been 
burnt  to  the  ground. 

It  is  interesting  to  know  that  on  Cape  Ann  it 
reaches  its  most  northern  limit  of  growth,  and  was 
discovered  by  the  Rev.  Manassah  Cutler,  a  minister 
of  Ipswich  Hamlet,  now  Hamilton,  some  time  in  the 
last  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  story  goes 
that  having  become  acquainted  with  its  fragrance 
while  living  in  the  South,  he  recognized  it  one  day  in 
passing  our  swamp  on  horseback.  Alighting  from  his 
horse  he  traced  the  fragrance  to  its  source,  and 
acquainted  the  townspeople  with  his  discovery. 

Undoubtedly  the  story  is  true,  for  judging  from 
his  diary,  he  was  interested  in  many  things  outside  of 
his  profession.  He  appears  to  have  been  frequently 
in  the  saddle,  going  from  place  to  place.  Now  coming 
to  Gloucester  to  assist  Parson  Jones  in  making  astro- 
nomical observations,  now  going  to  Annisquam  with 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    67 

this  same  Reverend  gentleman  lo  collect  fossils.  He 
also  records  that  he  "studied  Physic",  and  at  one 
time  had  twenty-four  smallpox  patients  under  his  care, 
so  what  is  more  natural  than  to  think  that  this  versatile 
person  was  interested  in  our  beautiful  flora. 

And  here  perhaps  the  writer  may  be  pardoned 
a  digression;  for  the  old  time  minister  of  whom  Parson 
Cutler  was  a  type,  whose  counterpart  does  not  exist 
today,  deserves  a  passing  notice.  Settled  for  life,  and 
never  dismissed  from  his  chosen  field  of  labor,  except 
by  the  recommendation  of  a  council  from  the  neigh- 
boring churches,  which  was  an  occasion  of  fasting  and 
prayer,  he  was  by  common  consent,  treated  with  a 
respect  equalled  but  by  few  secular  officials.  The 
boys  took  off  their  hats,  and  the  girls  dropped  curtsies 
to  him  on  the  street,  and  in  the  homes  his  counsels 
were  received  with  humility.  In  the  pulpit  his  expo- 
sitions were  unquestioned  till  well  along  in  the  eighteenth 
century;  and  when  a  newer  light  broke  upon  some, 
and  there  was  a  radical  change  in  their  theology,  not 
infrequently  did  whole  congregations  follow  their 
beloved  teacher  and  guide  into  "fresh  woods  and 
pastures  green". 

Think  not  however,  that  these  old  soldiers  of  the 
cross  were  "wafted  to  the  skies  on  flowery  beds  of 
ease".  Far  from  it,  for  their  avocations  were  many. 
The  old  time  minister  was  almost  always  expected  to 
be   schoolmaster,  physician,   and   mechanic   even,   in 


68         ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

addition  to  his  pastoral  duties  which  at  times  were 
most  exacting. 

In  separating  from  the  mother  church,  the  office  of 
marriage  was  changed  from  a  sacrament  to  a  civil  act. 
Prayers  were  not  required  or  customary  at  funerals, 
but  the  presence  of  a  minister  was  claimed  at  every 
death-bed,  even  of  a  child.  He  was  likely  to  be 
summoned  at  any  hour  of  the  night,  and  in  times  of 
great  mortality  the  strain  on  his  vitality  was  terrific.  Par- 
son Chandler  records  in  his  diary  of  fainting  from  sheer 
exhaustion  while  in  attendance  on  a  departing  spirit. 

Following  them  through  the  woods  on  their 
lonely  midnight  journeys  when  every  sense  was  on 
the  alert,  we  do  not  marvel  that  they  developed  a 
keenness  of  vision  and  a  sensitiveness  of  scent  unknown 
to  the  ordinary  traveller. 

This  exquisite  flower  owes  its  name  to  Magnol,  a 
French  botanist,  glauca  referring  to  the  gray  green 
underside  of  its  leaves.  Its  fruit  is  small,  green  and 
conical.  When  ripe  the  seeds  which  are  of  a  scarlet 
color  burst  their  cells  and  remain  some  days  suspended 
without,  by  their  slender  filaments.  To  preserve  for 
any  length  of  time  their  faculty  for  germinating,  they 
must  be  placed  as  soon  as  gathered,  before  the  pulp 
becomes  withered,  in  rotten  wood  or  sand,  slightly  moist- 
ened and  kept  in  a  cool  place  till  planted  in  the  ground. 

From  the  corduroy  road,  we  may  take  a  gravel 
road  that  will  take  us  out  to  Western  Avenue. 


XI 


ALONG  THE  SHORE  AND  ACROSS  THE 
MARSH  FOR  CARDINAL  FLOWER 


"The  sunlit  moon, 
The  sweet  warm  Hght  of  afternoon, 
The  spurting  torch  of  the  Cardinal  flower, 
The  wan  white  rose, 
The  Winter  gale  and  April  shower, 
O,  that  I  had  the  power 
To  fashion  these  with  joyous  hand 
In  music  worlds  might  understand." 

^^^HIS  very  beautiful  flower  is  found  in  many 
localities  on  our  Cape.  A  habitat  of 
wet  places,  it  grows  on  swampy  land, 
along  creeks,  but  oftenest,  perhaps,  beside 
brooks.  Mr.  Parsons  in  his  anniversary  poem,  speaks 
of  it  as  "flanking  the  little  brook  beside  the  Mill",  and 
he  had  undoubtedly  in  mind  the  Alewife  brook  where 
the  first  mill  of  the  town  stood;  for  in  the  writer's 
remembrance,  it  grew  plentifully  there. 

It  is  a  native  of  North  America,  belongs  to  the 
Lobelia  family,  and  unquestionably  derives  its  name 
from  the  likeness  it  bears  to  the  gorgeous  official  dress 
of  the  cardinals  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  We 
may  not  be  able  to  find  it  this  afternoon,  as  by  careless 
picking,  it  is  fast  becoming  extinct  in  places  where  it 
once  flourished,  but  our  walk  along  the  shore  will  have 


70    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

a  varied  interest  for  us,  recalling  here  and  there  an 
historic  incident. 

As  the  Cardinal  is  in  flower  early  in  August  we 
will  plan  to  take  our  walk  then,  and  on  a  clear  day 
when  all  the  objects  of  interest  may  be  seen.  We 
take  the  Rockport  or  Long  Beach  bus  and  get  off  at 
Witham  Street,  or  as  we  like  to  call  it,  the  Joppa 
Road.  After  walking  a  very  short  distance  on  this 
road,  by  looking  directly  across  on  our  right,  we  may 
see  the  spot  where  once  stood  a  comfortably  sized 
cottage  house,  the  home  of  our  historian,  the  Honorable 
John  J.  Babson,  to  whom  our  city  owes  an  everlasting 
debt  of  gratitude;  not  only  for  the  time  he  gave  to 
painstaking  historical  research,  but  also  for  his  unselfish 
labor  in  our  public  schools. 

Actively  engaged  in  business  affairs  for  the  greater 
part  of  his  life,  his  leisure  was  entirely  devoted  to 
enriching  his  own  mind  and  using  his  acquirements  for 
the  benefit  of  his  townsmen.  A  few  of  us  remember 
seeing  his  erect  figure  as  he  walked  into  town  with  an 
alert  step;  fewer  still  perhaps  remember  the  glance  of 
those  kindly  eyes  as  he  entered  a  school-room,  giving 
confidence  and  encouragement  to  both  teacher  and 
scholar.  His  History  of  Gloucester  is  justly  rated  as 
among  the  first  of  local  histories,  not  only  for  its  his- 
torical merit,  but  for  its  beauty  of  diction. 

We  walk  the  whole  length  of  this  charming  old 
road  till  we  come  to  the  beach,  and  then  take  the 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    71 

shore  road  leaving  Salt  Island  and  Little  Good  Harbor 
Beach  behind,  with  Milk  Island  and  Thacher's  in  the 
distance  beyond.  As  there  has  been  some  question 
raised  as  to  the  correct  name  of  this  beach  I  will  say 
that  it  has  always  been  named  as  above:  Little,  being 
corrupt  English  used  by  the  Indians  to  signify  "not 
very  good'*,  and  should  never  be  omitted,  as  it  has 
acquired  permanence  from  long  usage. 

Looking  out  upon  the  water  we  see  our  two 
islands  very  plainly.  Milk  Island  has  no  historical 
interest  that  I  know  of ;  its  ownership  has  always  been 
in  private  hands  and  has  never  been  utilized  for  any- 
thing but  grazing  purposes;  sheep  having  been  kept 
there  years  ago  —  possibly  other  cattle.  Thacher's 
however,  with  its  twin  lights  sometimes  called  Ann's 
eyes,  lighted  in  1771  and  kept  in  operation  contin- 
uously since,  except  during  the  period  of  the  Revo- 
lutionary War,  is  full  of  historical  interest  and  deserves 
more  than  a  passing  notice.  The  origin  of  its  name  is 
familiar  to  us  all,  but  to  those  who  have  read  the 
details  of  the  tragedy  as  given  by  the  old  annalists  in 
their  quaint  and  unstudied  language,  the  island  takes 
on  a  pathos  which  is  accentuated  by  every  wave  that 
beats  upon  its  shore.    Here  is  the  story :  — 

John  Avery  and  Anthony  Thacher  were  cousins 
and  both  English  Non-Conformists.  Avery  was  a 
minister  and  Thacher   had    acted  as  curate  in  his 


72    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

brother's  parish,  but  in  coming  to  this  country  he  was 
listed  a  "tayler"  in  the  ship's  passengers. 

Before  leaving  England  they  seem  to  have  made 
a  solemn  compact,  or  as  Thacher  himself  expresses  it, 
**a  perpetual  league  of  friendship,  never  to  forsake  each 
other  to  the  death,  but  to  be  partakers  of  each  others' 
misery  or  w^elfare,  as  also  of  habitation  in  the 
same  place". 

They  arrived  in  New  England  June  4th  1635 
and  Mr.  Avery  was  invited  to  go  to  Marblehead, 
where  there  was  yet  no  church  but  a  settlement. 
"Many  there"  however  were  "something  loose  and 
remiss  in  their  behaviour"  and  Mr.  Avery  who  was 
called  by  Mather  "a  precious  holy  man"  could  not 
bring  himself  to  go  there,  but  went  to  Newbury;  and 
the  faithful  Thacher  according  to  the  "league"  he  had 
made  accompanied  him.  After  a  short  stay  there  — 
we  do  not  know, — perhaps  his  conscience  troubled 
him;  at  all  events  he  decided  to  go  to  Marblehead 
and  his  friend  proves  his  constancy  by  breaking  up 
such  arrangements  as  he  had  been  able  to  make  for  a 
home  and  follows  him. 

We  can  see  the  little  company  in  imagination  as 
they  set  out,  going  on  the  little  pinnace  at  nightfall  in 
order  to  catch  the  first  favorable  morning  breeze. 
Avery  with  his  wife,  six  children  and  servants — 
they  cost  practically  nothing  but  their  keep  in  those 
days; — Thacher  with  his  four  children,  servants  and 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    73 

second  wife,  whom  he  had  married  six  weeks  before 
leaving  England.  They  wait  for  one  more,  Thomas 
Thacher,  a  nephew  of  Anthony;  but  an  unconquer- 
able depression  and  presentiment  as  to  the  unfavorable 
outcome  of  the  voyage  has  taken  possession  of  him 
and  at  the  last  moment  he  falters  and  decides  to  make 
the  journey  by  land.  A  stranger  takes  his  place, 
which  with  the  four  seamen  make  a  company  of 
twenty-three  souls.  We  can  see  them  disposing  of 
their  meagre  possessions  and  settling  down  for  the 
night,  not  without  commending  themselves  to  the  God 
in  whom  they  trust.  In  the  morning  a  breeze  takes 
them  out  of  the  harbor.  They  are  expecting  to  reach 
their  new  home  by  nightfall  of  another  day,  or  sooner; 
but  they  encounter  contrary  winds,  their  little  pinnace 
is  ill  supplied  with  sails  and  the  second  night  finds 
them  off  Cape  Ann.  And  here  we  quote  from  the 
quaint  letter  of  Mr.  Thacher  to  his  brother  Peter, 
"the  Mariners"  he  says,  "would  not  put  to  sails,  but 
to  cast  anchor  till  morning,  but  before  daylight  it 
pleased  the  Lord  to  send  so  mighty  a  storm  as  the 
like  was  never  known  in  New  England;  it  was  so 
furious  that  our  anchor  came  home  whereupon  the 
mariners  let  out  more  cable  which  at  last  slipped 
away.  Then  our  sailors  knew  not  what  to  do,  but 
were  driven  before  the  wind.*'  Here  follows  a  most 
pathetic  picture  of  the  little  group  as  they  sat  "com- 
forting and  cheering  each  other  in  the  Lord  against 


74    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

ghastly  death  which  stared  them  in  the  face  and 
sat  triumphing  upon  each  one's  forehead/*  There 
was  "no  screech"  he  says,  but  suddenly  they  were 
driven  by  the  violence  of  the  waves  upon  "a  rock 
between  two  high  rocks  and  yet  all  one  rock".  Four 
of  them,  Mr.  Avery  and  his  daughter,  Mr.  Thacher 
and  his  oldest  son,  succeeded  in  getting  into  a  hole  on 
the  top  of  one  of  the  high  rocks  and  thought  that  not 
only  they  were  safe  but  that  the  others  in  the  pinnace 
might  come  to  them. 

Another  merciless  wave  however,  swept  them 
into  the  water  and  at  the  same  time  struck  the  boat 
with  such  force  it  went  to  pieces.  It  was  then  while 
these  distressed  servants  of  God  were  hanging  on  to 
the  rock  and  Mr.  Thacher  held  Mr.  Avery  by  the 
hand,  both  resolving  to  die  together,  that  Mr.  Avery 
lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  said  "we  know  not 
what  the  pleasure  of  God  is,  I  fear  we  have  been  too 
unmindful  of  his  former  deliverances,  Lord  I  cannot 
challenge  a  promise  of  my  life,  but  thou  hast  promised 
to  deliver  us  from  condemnation  and  to  bring  us  safe 
to  heaven  through  the  all  sufficient  satisfaction  of  Jesus 
Christ,  this  therefore  I  challenge  Thee".  No  sooner 
had  he  finished  speaking  than  a  wave  swept  him  off 
and  indeed  wafted  him  to  heaven,  but  his  last  words 
form  the  basis  of  Whittier*s  poem  "Parson  Avery*s 
Swan  Song"  with  which  we  are  all  familiar. 

Thacher  got  a  foothold  and  reached  the  shore; 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    75 

in  a  few  moments  his  wife  extricated  herself  from  the 
breaking  timbers  and  joined  him,  the  only  two  souls 
that  were  saved  out  of  the  twenty-three  that  had 
embarked.  Most  pitiful  are  the  father's  feelings  des- 
cribed in  the  letter  before  referred  to,  as  "he  looked 
for  his  children  and  saw  them  not'*.  The  remembrance 
of  their  faces  "poor  silent  lambs"  seemed  to  have 
bored  into  his  soul,  and  we  cannot  but  wonder  if  they 
ever  ceased  to  haunt  him. 

But  these  were  heroic  days;  some  clothing 
including  a  scarlet  cloak  which  if  not  now  in  existence, 
was  for  a  long  time  —  and  tradition  says  was  wrapped 
around  every  baby  of  Thacher  descent  at  christening — 
provisions,  and  best  of  all  a  snapsack  containing 
materials  for  striking  a  fire  were  washed  ashore.  The 
Thachers  made  themselves  comfortable  till  they  were 
taken  off  two  days  later,  and  on  leaving  the  island 
which  was  afterward  granted  him,  he  gave  it  the 
name  of  Thacher's  Woe.  Public  and  private  gener- 
osity relieved  their  destitute  condition  and  they  pro- 
ceeded to  Marblehead  where  he  preached  a  few  years, 
but  subsequently  removed  to  Yarmouth  where  he 
remained  the  rest  of  his  life,  filling  many  important 
offices  and  dying  at  the  age  of  eighty. 

Three  more  cliildren  were  born  to  him  from 
whom  sprang  a  long  line  of  descendants  eminent  in 
various  walks  of  life;  but  we  have  finished  our  story 
and  have  come  to  the  creek  where  we  must  turn  up 


76    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

and  cross  the  marsh.  There  is  but  one  house  on  the 
marsh  which  we  pass  and  take  a  path  into  the  woods; 
and  as  we  walk  along  we  will  inquire  into  the  future 
of  Thomas  whose  forebodings  led  him  to  take  the 
journey  by  land,  instead  of  casting  his  lot  with  the 
others.  The  speculative  are  sure  to  ask  "why  was  he 
so  depressed,  why  had  he  such  forebodings**? 

Like  many  other  questions  these  must  lie  unan- 
swered till  we  know  more  about  these  things  than  we 
do  now.  Of  one  thing  we  are  sure ;  he  made  a  great 
deal  of  his  life,  for  he  was  a  most  brilliant  scholar, 
being  proficient  in  Arabic  and  Syrian,  and  so  well 
versed  in  Hebrew  as  to  make  a  lexicon  of  the  language. 
To  his  linguistic  acquirements  he  added  a  knowledge 
of  Mechanics  and  Physics,  the  last  year  of  his  life 
publishing  the  first  medical  treatise  that  appeared  in 
America. 

Much  more  that  is  interesting  might  be  added 
regarding  the  descendants  of  this  man,  but  this  would 
not  be  local  history,  and  we  must  not  forget,  that  we 
came  out  in  search  of  the  Cardinal  flower.  We  should 
now  be  not  far  from  a  not  very  well  defined  path 
leading  to  the  left,  and  taking  this  path,  we  walk  on 
till  we  come  to  a  ditch.  Here  perhaps  we  may  dis- 
cover "the  Cardinals  fiery  plume'*;  and  if  we  are  so 
fortunate,  I  am  sure  as  lovers  of  our  native  wild  flowers 
we  will  take  more  satisfaction  in  seeing  it  growing, 
than  taking  it  away  with  us. 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    77 

Turtle-head  also  grows  here  which  is  a  flower 
interesting  more  for  its  curious  formation,  than  for  its 
beauty. 

Turning  back  to  the  farm  road  again,  we  follow 
it  till  we  come  to  Pleasant  Street,  Rockport,  which  is 
not  far  from  the  highway  where  we  take  the  bus  for 
home. 

Our  walk  this  afternoon  has  not  taken  us  far 
afield  or  consumed  more  than  a  few  hours  time,  but 
we  have  gone  for  our  history  nearly  three  centuries 
into  the  past.    Truly, 

"The  great  eventful  Present  hides  the  Past,  but  through  the  din 
Of  its  loud  Hfe  hints  and  echoes  from  the  life  behind  steal  in ; 
And  the  lore  of  home  and  fireside,  and  the  legendary  rhyme. 
Make  the  task  of  duty  lighter  which  the 
True  man  owes  his  time." 


XII 

DOWN  THE  OLD  WEST  GLOUCESTER 
CAUSEWAY  FOR  FALSE  FOXGLOVE 

"The  world  is  too  much  with  us;  late  and  soon, 
Getting  and  spending,  we  lay  waste  our  powers: 
Little  we  see  in  Nature  that  is  ours ; 
We  have  given  our  hearts  away  a  sordid  boon." 


3T  is  late  summer;  the  flowers  in  our  woods 
will  soon  be  gone  —  few  now  are  left,  but 
the  composites:  the  Geradias  however 
are  not  yet  out  of  flower,  so  let  us  go 
in  search  of  the  False  Foxglove,  a  very  lovely  member 
of  that  family.  There  are  two  kinds — the  downy, 
which  is  a  low  shrub,  with  an  entire  leaf;  and  the 
fern-leafed,  which  has  a  much  higher  stalk,  with  a 
more  indented  leaf.  Both  have  a  pale  yellow  bell- 
shaped  flower,  of  a  sweet  elusive  fragrance — the 
latter  being  a  little  larger. 

It  is  found  in  several  places  on  the  Cape,  but  for 
a  pleasant  walk,  we  will  take  the  West  Gloucester 
bus  to  Concord  Street,  Leaving  the  bus  here,  we 
walk  down  Concord  to  Causeway  Street,  which  we 
see  on  the  right,  a  large  yellow  house,  on  a  slight 
elevation  at  our  left,  serving  as  a  landmark. 

We  follow  this  road  till  within  a  very  short  dis- 
tance of  the  Causeway  leading  to  Russ*  Island,  when 


80    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

by  looking  carefully  on  the  right,  we  shall  see  a  path 
leading  through  the  tall  reed-like  grass  to  the  upland. 
We  follow  this  path,  and  under  the  oak  trees,  we 
shall  soon  see  the  delicate,  fern-like  foliage,  and  the 
yellow  flowers  of  the  False  Foxglove,  for  which  we 
are  looking. 

This  is  a  parasitic  plant,  which  feeds  on  the  roots 
of  the  oak  tree,  so  we  must  resist  any  temptation  we 
might  have  of  taking  away  a  root  for  transplanting, 
and  content  ourselves  with  the  blossoms. 

Coming  back,  we  retrace  our  steps  to  Concord 
Street,  pondering  as  we  go,  on  the  hardship  the  early 
settlers  of  this  section  must  have  experienced  for  many 
years,  in  attending  church  on  the  Green;  for  they  had 
to  come  over  this  road,  cross  Russ*  Island,  and  then 
take  the  ferry  from  Biskie  Head  to  TrynaFs  Cove  on 
the  opposite  shore. 

As  in  those  days  attendance  at  church  worship 
was  compulsory,  this  road  must  have  felt  the  imprint 
of  many  an  unwilling  foot,  but  we  cannot  believe  that 
the  recording  Angel  thought  this  sin  worthy  of  record. 

If  we  wish  to  find  the  downy  species  of  this 
family,  on  regaining  Concord  Street  we  walk  on  to 
Atlantic  Avenue,  and  turn  down  here,  walking  till  we 
come  to  a  ledge  on  our  left.  Opposite  this  ledge  is  a 
grassy  lane,  turning  down  at  right,  which  we  follow 
and  soon  see  a  causeway  of  broken  granite.  We 
cross  this  and  also  a  similar  one  farther  on,  which 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 


81 


brings  us  out  to  a  little  wooded  island.  Here  we 
shall  find  both  varieties,  but  not  in  great  abundance. 
If  not  too  late  in  the  season,  another  species  of  the 
same  family,  the  low,  purple  Geradia,  will  also  be  in 
flower,  and  along  the  water's  edge  on  the  marsh,  we 
may  find  Sea  Lavender,  or  Rosemary. 

"O  gracious  mother  whose  benignant  breast 
Wakes  us  to  life  and  lulls  us  all  to  rest 
How  thy  sweet  features,  kind  to  every  clime 
Mock  with  their  smile  the  wrinkled  front  of  time." 


XIII 

ON  THE  OLD  WEST  PARISH   ROAD  PAST 

THE  SITE  OF  THE  2d  PARISH  CHURCH 

AND  THE  OLD  BURYING  GROUND 

"  Along  this  old  West  Parish  way  Here  some  old  garden  bush  o'ergrown 

The  summer  grasses  grow ;  Among  the  green,  shows  grey ; 

Beside  it,  gleaming  bright  today  Some  mossy  old  foundation-stone 

The  wild  pink  roses  blow ;  Where,  in  the  Province  day. 

By  brambled  thicket,  brake,  and  fen.  Some  settler  made  his  home,  and  yet 

On  level  green,  or  hill.  With  crimson  flush  aglow. 

It  turns  and  winds,  and  turns  again.  The  garden  rose-bush  that  he  set 

As  country  roadways  will.  its  old-time  bloom  will  show. 

Here  years,  their  temple  held  its  pace, 

Now  bush  and  tree  o'ergrown, 

You  scarce  with  labored  search  can  trace 

Each  old  foundation-stone. 

I  walk  with  loitering  feet  today 

Across  the  verdant  sod. 

And  tread  the  blossom-bordered  way 

Those  old-time  worthies  trod." 

ERHAPS  there  is  nothing  that  furnishes 
a  more  sympathetic  theme  to  a  poet  than 
an  old  road.  It  was  doubtless  a  Summer's 
walk  that  our  West  Parish  poet  took  over 
the  old  meeting-house  road,  and  in  our  imagination  we 
can  see  him,  rich  in  the  historic  lore  of  the  locality, 
that  had  been  familiar  to  him  from  boyhood,  wander- 
ing over  this  fast  disappearing  roadway.  Now,  he 
loiters  by  a  wild-rose,  that  beckons  to  him  from  a 
brambled  thicket;  now,  he  pauses  before  the  vestiges 
of  an  old  orchard,  beside  the  foundation-stones  of  what 
was  once  an  old  settler's  home ;  and  now  he  drops  a 


84    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

sigh,  perhaps,  beside  an  old  garden  rose  bush,  bravely 
blooming  on,  long  after  the  hands  that  set  it  there 
have  been  crossed  in  the  everlasting  peace. 

Finally,  he  comes  to  the  foundation-stones  of  the 
old  church,  even  in  that  day  scarcely  traceable ;  and 
as  he  stands  there,  he  feels  the  presence  of  those  old 
worthies,  treading  "the  blossom  bordered  way". 

We  will  take  this  walk  in  mid  or  late  September, 
for  the  path  is  not  an  easy  one,  and  we  need  the 
bracing  air  of  early  Fall  to  encourage  our  footsteps. 
We  may  not  even  be  successful  in  tracing  the  old 
foundation-stones,  but  we  may  at  least  familiarize  our- 
selves with  the  history  of  the  old  church. 

As  in  our  previous  walks,  we  have  recourse  to 
the  friendly  bus,  and  having  taken  the  one  bound  for 
West  Gloucester,  we  get  off  at  Concord  Street.  We 
follow  Concord  Street,  which  used  to  be  called  the 
Lower  Parish  Road,  till  we  come  to  Thompson  Street 
on  our  left.  We  turn  in  Thompson  Street,  which  is  a 
fairly  well-defined  road  at  first,  but  soon  becomes  only 
a  path,  very  much  beset  with  briars  and  brambles, 
which  often  impede  our  progress.  It  is,  however,  an 
unmistakable  path,  and  there  is  no  uncertainty  of 
direction,  for  a  good  stone  wall  on  either  side  separates 
the  original  road  from  the  adjoining  pastures. 

The  trodden  way  lies  quite  closely  to  the  wall  on 
our  left;  and  while  we  are  somewhat  inconvenienced 
by  obstructions,  our  wsJk  is  not  without  beauty.  The 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS   Oh   CAPE  ANN  85 

hills  on  our  right  are  radiant  with  a  wonderful  variety 
of  Golden-Rod;  the  graceful  Sweet  Fern  is  seen  in 
abundance,  and  we  may  even  refresh  ourselves  with 
Fox  Berries,  which  in  places  along  our  path  are  quite 
plentiful. 

If  we  take  our  walk  in  mid-September,  we  shall 
also  find  Ladies*  Tresses,  Polygala,  and  the  low  purple 
Geradia.  Emerging  from  the  thicket,  we  come  out 
on  an  open  place,  and  a  low  spreading  rock  invites  a 
rest  after  our  strenuous  walk.  Looking  around  us,  we 
see  the  Bearberry  growing  nearby,  the  dark  red  berry 
peeping  out  from  under  the  brownish-green  vine, 
reminding  one  a  little  of  the  wild  Cranberry.  The 
blossom  of  the  Bearberry  is  of  a  delicate  pink,  not 
unlike  the  Arbutus,  and  the  plant  receives  its  rather 
unpleasant  name  from  the  relish  with  which  bears  are 
supposed  to  devour  its  fruit.  Standing  on  this  rock, 
we  see  where  the  path  leads  away  to  the  right,  and 
we  soon  come  to  a  ledge  and  a  large  boulder. 

Here  we  find  a  pathway  leading  up  to  a  hill  or 
plateau  and  just  to  the  southeast  stood  the  old  church. 
But  few  of  the  "old  foundation-stones"  are  left  now — 
most  of  them  have  been  gradually  carried  away  by 
impious  hands  to  serve  anew  in  structures  far  less  con- 
genial to  them.  Why  not  have  left  them  in  their  repose 
fit  companions  to  the  remnants  of  a  few  old  poplars, 
that  still  stand  to  attest  the  love  of  beauty  that  some- 
how crept  into  the  souls  of  these  old  pioneers.  Looking 


86    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

down  from  the  plateau,  the  scene  is  one  of  incomparable 
beauty  and  one  cannot  but  feel  that  the  site  was 
chosen  with  intention.  May  we  not,  go  even  farther, 
and  imagine  these  old  keepers  of  the  faith,  chanting 
in  their  hearts,  as  they  made  the  ascent. 

"Who  shall  ascend  into  the  hill  of  the  Lord? 
And  who  shall  stand  in  his  holy  place? 
He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure  heart 
Who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  to  Vanity, 
Nor  sworn  deceitfully." 

At  best,  perhaps,  we  have  only  approximately 
fixed  the  boundaries  of  the  old  church,  but  we  may 
refresh  our  minds  with  a  bit  of  history.  In  1 688,  one 
fourth  of  the  population  of  the  town  were  living  in  this 
section,  and  as  the  roads  were  poor,  and  the  distance 
around  the  head  of  Annisquam  River  was  quite  con- 
siderable, a  ferry  was  established  in  1 694  from  Biskie 
Head  to  Trynall  Cove,  where  the  fare  was  one  penny 
for  a  person,  and  two  for  a  horse. 

But  even  this  mode  of  travel  was  very  inconven- 
ient in  Winter  weather,  and  in  1712  the  town  was 
petitioned  to  set  off  this  locality  as  a  separate  precinct. 
The  request  was  not  granted,  but  the  petitioners  were 
allowed  to  hire  a  teacher  for  the  three  Winter  months, 
who  should  also  preach  to  them,  thus  combining  the 
offices  of  teacher  and  preacher.  This  arrangement 
continued  till  1716,  when  they  were  granted  leave  to 
become  a  separate  precinct,  and  maintain  a  Parish 
church. 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    87 

This  was  the  second  religious  organization  of  the 
town,  and  Mr.  Thompson,  who  had  served  them 
acceptably  the  preceding  four  years,  was  chosen  their 
settled  pastor.  He  had  a  house  near  the  church,  was 
married,  and  had  five  children,  but  being  of  frail  con- 
stitution, died  in  1 724,  and  was  buried  in  the  old 
cemetery.    We  shall  visit  his  grave  later  on  in  our  walk. 

The  pastorate  of  the  next  minister  was  an  unhappy 
one,  but  his  successor.  Parson  Fuller,  the  last  settled 
minister  of  the  church,  was  a  benediction  to  the  Parish. 
He  came  there,  a  young  man,  in  1 769,  just  preceding 
the  trying  years  of  the  Revolution;  but  the  struggle 
ended,  he  entered  upon  a  serene  and  untroubled 
ministry.  For  something  more  than  fifty  years,  he 
ministered  to  this  people,  only  closing  his  labors  when 
he  felt  the  infirmities  of  age  approaching.  After  his 
removal  from  town,  he  often  returned  to  the  scene  of 
his  life-long  ministry,  visiting  among  his  former  parish- 
ioners, and  Mr.  Babson  quaintly  remarks  in  his  history: 
"The  longer  his  stay  was  extended,  the  more  his 
departure  was  regretted.*' 

After  the  closing  of  this  pastorate,  the  pulpit  was 
filled  by  ministers  of  other  denominations,  largely 
Universalists.  We  read  in  the  church  records  of 
members  being  disciplined  for  holding  views  incom- 
patible with  those  of  the  church,  and  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  they  were  growing  into  a  more  liberal  faith. 
Finally,  those  of  the  Universalist  faith  went  off  and 


88    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

organized  a  society  of  their  own;  the  original  church 
ceased  to  exist,  and  the  ancient  edifice  was  left  to  the 
vandalism  of  boys,  and  the  decaying  elements  of  time. 
No  response  was  given  to  an  appeal  to  repair  it,  and 
although  the  oaken  timbers  were  still  stalwart,  it  was 
torn  down  in  1 846. 

We  now  take  up  our  walk  again,  strolling  along 
to  Bray  Street,  which  we  cross,  and  come  again  into 
Thompson  Street,  which  is  now  a  grassy  road,  quite 
different  from  the  section  we  have  just  left.  Following 
this  road,  we  soon  come  to  the  old  cemetery,  now 
overgrown  with  briar  and  bush.  This  was  the  second 
cemetery,  set  apart  by  the  town  about  the  beginning 
of  the  18th  century.  Few  of  the  stones  are  now 
standing;  that,  however,  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Thompson 
is  in  a  fair  state  of  preservation.  We  shall  find  it  in 
the  south-west  corner,  and  the  inscription  can  be 
easily  deciphered. 

Here  lies  buried 
Ye  body  of  ye  Revd. 
Mr.  Samuel  Thompson 
Past  our  of  ye  2nd. 
Church  of  Christ  in 
Glosester  aged  33 
Years     deed.  December 
Ye         8  1724. 

1724-1824— 1923— Nearly  two  hundred 
years  have  passed  since  this  young  life  went  out,  and 
it  possesses  a  pathetic  interest  for  us,  since  nothing  is 
known  of  his  descendants,  though  as  before  mentioned 
he  left  a  wife  and  five  children,  the  little  Samuel  being 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    89 

a  posthumous  child.  A  contemporary  speaks  of  him 
as  having  been  "of  pleasant  aspect  and  mein;  of  a 
sweet  temper;  inoffensive  in  his  whole  behavior;  pious 
and  peaceable  in  his  conversation".  The  writer  then 
adds  that  "his  ministerial  gifts  were  superior,  his  suc- 
cess answerable,  and  as  he  preached,  so  he  lived  and 
died  in  the  faith**. 

What  a  tribute!  Can  anyone  doubt  that  his  life, 
even  though  short,  left  an  impress  on  his  fellow-beings, 
which,  broadening  through  the  years,  may  be  felt  even 
at  this  present  day.  "For  the  things  seen  are  temporal, 
but  the  things  unseen  are  eternal." 

It  is  getting  late,  and  the  shadows  are  lengthening. 
We  may  keep  on  this  road  and  come  out  on  Concord 
Street  again,  which  brings  us  to  Essex  Avenue;  but 
for  the  sake  of  the  beautiful  view  we  will  retrace  our 
steps  to  Bray  Street,  walk  to  Turtle  Pond  Hill,  and 
take  a  cross  path  by  the  side  of  the  pond  to  Sumner 
Street.  Going  along  this  path,  we  gaze  with  rapture  at 
the  beautiful  stretch  of  country  that  Nature  has  spread 
out  for  us  on  our  left;  and  turning  from  the  scenes  of 
desolation  of  the  early  afternoon,  to  this  beautiful  living 
picture,  the  lines  of  Mathew  Arnold  come  to  our  mind; 

"Still  do  thy  quiet  ministers  move  on. 
Their  glorious  tasks  in  silence  perfecting; 
Still  working,  blaming  our  vain  turmoil; 
Laborers  that  shall  not  fail  when  Man  is  gone." 

From  Sumner  Street  to  Essex  Avenue  is  a  short 
walk,  and  we  wait  again  for  our  friend,  the  bus. 


XIV 

TO  THE  WHALE'S  JAW 
OVER  LAMB  LEDGE 

"I  like  the  Fall,  I  like  the  way  it  smells  of  smoke, 
and  dry  leaves  burning." 

HERE  is  a  haze  in  the  air,  the  October 
sun  shimmers  drowsily  in  the  heavens, 
and  the  spell  of  Dogtown  is  upon  us. 
We  must  take  another  walk  to  the 
Whale's  Jaw,  but  not  wholly  over  the  same  roads. 
Today  we  will  go  up  over  Lamb  Ledge  (as  in  the 
walk  for  Skunk  Cabbage)  and  come  out  as  before  on 
the  old  Rockport  road. 

We  walk  then  toward  the  east  till  we  come  to  a 
stile,  and  going  in  by  this  stile,  cross  Split  Rock  pas- 
ture by  a  good  path.  We  follow  the  path  around  the 
hill,  get  over  some  bars,  and  walk  up  the  railroad 
track  a  short  distance  till  we  come  to  a  second  pair  of 
bars.  We  now  follow  a  path  over  a  gravel  bank,  get 
over  two  walls,  cross  a  brook,  and  take  a  path  across 
pasture  to  Vivian  s  Road.  We  cross  this  road,  and 
come  to  a  swamp  on  our  left;  but  there  is  a  good  path 
around  it,  which  we  take,  and  soon  we  come  out 
on  Gee  Avenue  near  Peter's  Pulpit.  From  this  point 
we  can  see  the  Whale's  Jaw,  and  we  now  proceed  as 
in  our  previous  walk. 


92    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

Arrived  at  our  objective  point,  we  sit  down 
under  the  shadow  of  this  huge  cleft  rock  to  rest.  How 
changed  is  the  aspect  of  nature  from  what  greeted  us 
on  our  previous  walk;  but  where  is  there  a  soul  so 
insensible  to  its  charms,  as  to  be  unmoved  at  the 
spectacle  set  out  before  us.  There  is  no  sense  of 
beginningness  it  is  true  as  there  was  in  the  Spring,  the 
delicate  and  tender  foliage  has  gradually  become 
hardened  and  colored  by  the  scorching  suns  of  summer 
and  the  later  cold  of  Autumn,  but  what  repose!  The 
season  s  work  is  done  and  a  restful  sense  of  accom- 
plishment fills  the  air.  How  like  the  life  of  a  plant  is 
the  life  of  an  individual  when  lived  at  its  best. 

"One  lesson,  Nature,  let  me  learn  of  thee; 
One  lesson,  which  in  every  wind  is  blown ; 
One  lesson  of  two  duties  kept  at  one 
Though  the  loud  world  proclaim  their  enmity. 
Of  toil,  unsevered  from  tranquility  — 
Of  labor  that  in  lasting  fruit  outgrows 
Far  noisier  schemes,  accomplished  in  repose; 
Too  great  for  haste,  too  high  for  rivalry." 

Returning,  we  go  back  to  Peter's  Pulpit,  walk 
down  Gee  Avenue  a  short,  distance,  and  then  take  a 
path  to  the  left  that  brings  us  to  the  Vivian  Road. 
We  then  follow  this  road  to  Cherry  Street,  which  we 
take,  going  over  Fox  Hill,  and  coming  out  on  Poplar 
Street.  Here  we  may  go  to  the  right  to  Washington 
Street,  or  to  the  left  to  Maplewood  Avenue. 

It  is  late  afternoon  when  we  reach  our  own  door. 
The  lengthening  shadows  soon  give  place  to  darkness, 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    93 

and  as  the  night  closes  in  upon  us,  and  we  light  the  \ 

lamp,  our  mind  reverts  to  the  scene  left  behind  only  a  j 

few  hours  before.     We   have   gathered   no  flowers,  | 
but  each  of  us  has   culled  a  bunch  of  the  fragrant 

Bayberry;  and,  as  we  hold  it  in  our  hand,  we  wonder  j 

if  the  bushes  left  behind  hug  the  rocks  more  closely  in  ] 

the  darkness,  and  if  they  miss  the  touch  of  the  hands  j 
that  once  gathered  their  grey-green  berries  for  candles. 
The  picture,  too,  of  the  great  cleft  rock,  silhouetted 
against  the  sky,  looms  up  before  us,  and  again  we 

wonder  if  it  ever  gets  tired  of  standing  there,  forever  , 

a  silent  witness  of  Nature's  powerful  forces.  ; 


XV 
TO   WOLF  HILL  IN   NOVEMBER 

"I  want  to  stride  the  hills;  my  feet  cry  out 
For  hills!    Oh,  I  am  sick  to  death  of  streets ; 
The  nausea  of  pavements,  and  people  always  about ; 
The  savagery  of  mortar  and  steel,  that  beats 
Me  under,  hedges  me  in." 

ET  us  go  to  the  hills — the  beautiful  low 
hills-  that  look  down  upon  the  Annis- 
quam  River;  and  let  us  go  if  we  can  on 
a  day  in  November,  such   as  Whittier 
describes  in  his  "St.  Martin  s  Summer,'*  when 

"The  Summer  and  the  Winter  here 
Midway  a  truce  are  holding ; 
A  soft,  consenting  atmosphere 
Their  tents  of  peace  unfolding. 

The  silent  woods,  the  lonely  hills, 
Rise  solemn  in  their  gladness ; 
The  quiet,  that  the  valley  fills 
Is  scarcely  joy  or  sadness." 

This  walk  may  be  taken  from  town  entirely  on 
foot,  starting  from  any  point  on  Washington  Street, 
and  walking  directly  to  Marsh  Street,  which  is  about 
a  mile  distant  from  the  Community  House.  This 
street  was,  in  the  writer's  remembrance,  only  a  lane 
that  terminated  with  a  pair  of  bars  directly  across  from 
the  cemetery  entrance — all  beyond  was  a  large  cow- 
pasture. 


96    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

There  were  then  three  old  houses  on  it,  one  of 
which  is  still  standing,  in  its  original  shape,  another  is 
standing,  but  so  altered  and  enlarged  as  to  be  unrec- 
ognizable, and  the  other  has  been  torn  down.  Without 
doubt,  this  was  one  of  the  first  inhabited  localities  in 
town,  for  on  a  map  of  I  740,  the  dwelling  houses  of 
three  of  our  earliest  settlers  are  indicated,  perhaps  the 
three  just  spoken  of. 

Sometime  in  the  sixties  a  quarry  was  opened 
just  beyond  the  bars,  and  the  road  was  extended  for 
the  purpose  of  working  it;  but  the  granite,  which  was 
of  a  beautiful  pink  color,  was  found  to  be  impracticable 
for  building  purposes,  and  it  was  abandoned.  The 
opening,  however,  then  made,  seemed  to  suggest  pos- 
sibilities for  building,  and  houses  began  to  be  built 
there.  These  houses  gave  such  satisfaction,  that,  from 
that  time  on,  lot  after  lot  has  been  taken,  till  now  the 
entire  hill  is  dotted  over  with  summer  homes. 

As  to  the  granite  quarry,  stone  was  cut  from  it 
for  our  first  City  Hall  that  was  destroyed  by  fire,  and 
some  may  have  been  sent  out  of  town — I  think  some 
was;  but  the  only  specimens  that  I  know  of  in 
Gloucester  are  two  monuments  in  Oak  Grove  Ceme- 
tery, one  bearing  the  name  of  Nathaniel  Babson  and 
the  other  David  Allen. 

Well,  we  walk  down  the  road,  and  as  we  cannot 
expect  to  see  flowers  at  this  time  of  year,  we  will  stop 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    97 

and  look  at  some  Barberry  bushes  on  the  left,  that  are 
much  more  beautiful  in  fruit  than  in  flower.  They  will 
doubtless  be  glad  to  have  us  pick  a  few  sprays  for  our 
table  decoration,  for  they  must  miss  the  eager  hands 
that  used  to  strip  their  branches  for  a  sauce,  that 
invariably  was  served  at  dinner.  Many  of  us  remem- 
ber when  our  mothers  used  to  lay  in  their  bushel  or 
two  of  barberries,  and  put  them  up  in  molasses-sugar. 

As  this  was  before  the  days  of  glass  jars,  the 
sauce  was  turned  into  large  stone  crocks,  which  stood 
in  a  row  on  the  closet  floor.  Beside  being  used  on 
the  table,  diluted  with  water,  it  was  considered  a  safe 
and  refreshing  drink  for  the  sick  possessed  of  some 
medicinal  qualities.  All  this,  however,  is  now  changed; 
we  no  longer  go  for  barberries,  or  stem  them  of  a 
November  evening.  It  may  be  only  a  fancy,  but 
somehow  the  bushes  do  not  look  so  thrifty  and  enter- 
prising as  they  used  to,  nor  do  the  berries  present  such 
a  fat  and  opulent  an  appearance  as  in  former  days. 
I  suppose  the  picking  was  good  for  them. 

Having  picked  our  little  bouquet,  we  proceed  past 
the  sumacs  and  blue  bramble-berries,  till  we  come  to 
two  roads,  one  branching  off  to  the  left  by  the  shore, 
the  other  going  over  the  hill;  we  must  eventually  take 
the  latter  road,  but,  if  the  tide  is  in,  it  will  repay  us 
to  walk  along  the  shore  road,  till  we  see  prohibitory 
signs,  for  besides  having  a  pretty  view  of  the  river, 
much  was  done  to   beautify  this  road  by  a  lover 


98    ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

of  Nature,  not  now  living.    We  can  then  come  back, 
and  take  the  hill  road. 

Before  going  over  the  hill,  we  must  not  fail  to 
see  at  its  base,  on  the  extreme  right,  a  clump  of  black 
Alder  bushes,  scarlet  with  berries;  and  as  this  is  a 
berry,  rather  than  a  flower  walk,  we  stop  here  and 
gather  enough  for  the  decoration  of  our  Thanksgiving 
table.  The  bushes  are  tall  and  not  too  accessible;  but 
those  of  us  who  are  long  of  limb  must  be  generous  to 
those  who  are  not  so  fortunate. 

And  now  we  come  again  to  two  roads,  going  in 
opposite  directions,   neither  of   which  we  take,   but 
proceed  to  the  next  turn  to  the  right.    This  is  a  stony, 
unattractive  road,  but  we  have  to  take  it,  for  it  is  the 
road  that  leads  around  the  base  of  the  hill.    Following 
this  road,  we  come  again  to  the  beautiful  shore  of  the 
Annisquam  River,  with  the  island  over  across,  and 
soon  reach  Trynall's  Cove,  which  was  the  mainland 
end  of  the  ferry.    For  about  a  hundred  years  this 
ferry  plied  between  Biskie  Head  and  the  little  cove; 
and  during  all  that  time  the  right  of  running  it  was 
held  by  successive  members  of  the  Hodgkins  family. 
As  this  was  the  connecting  line  between  the 
First  and  Second  Parishes,  the  road  from  it — the 
one  we  are  about  to  take — must  have  been  a  much- 
travelled   one;    but  with  the  passing   of   the   ferry, 
occasioned  probably  by  the  lessened  importance  of 
this  part  of  the  town,  it  gradually  fell  into  disuse,  until 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    99 

finally  it  was  seldom  frequented,  except  by  people 
who  pastured  cattle  in  the  adjacent  pastures. 

Partly,  perhaps,  from  the  recital  of  a  ghastly 
murder,  that  was  committed  in  the  vicinity,  partly 
from  its  inherent  loneliness,  it  came  to  be  an  avoided 
road,  and  the  writer  remembers  as  a  child,  how  the 
steps  were  quickened  in  passing  it,  especially  if  caught 
there  at  nightfall.  An  air  of  mystery  seemed  to  hang 
over  it,  and  it  always  seemed  a  possible  hiding-place 
for  evil-doers.  The  story  too,  of  the  old  man  Hewet 
who  lived  on  the  corner,  was  always  told.  He 
lived  to  the  age  of  108  years  and  said  that  God 
had  forgotten  him,  so  finally  he  starved  himself 
to  death. 

But  none  of  these  stories  depress  us  today; 
houses  in  proximity,  even  though  now  closed,  speak 
of  life  and  its  wholesome  activities,  to  be  renewed 
with  the  returning  Spring.  We  take  a  parting  look  at 
the  wonderful  reflections  in  the  calm  and  peaceful 
water,  and  then  turn  up  the  road,  drinking  in  the 
beauty  of  the  gorgeous  coloring.  Soon  the  hills  loom 
up  on  either  side,  taking  on,  in  the  light  of  the  setting 
sun,  a  look  of  dignity,  if  not  of  majesty;  the  approach- 
ing twilight  sharpens  their  outlines  against  the  sky,  till, 
finally,  all  details  are  lost,  and  only  impressive  masses 
of  earth  and  rock,  looking  forward  to  the  birth  of 
another  morn,  stand  out  in  the  slowly  dissolving 
landscape. 


100       ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

Good  old  Dr.  Watts  has  said  it  for  us  better 
than  we  can  say  it  ourselves. 

*'  Before  the  hills  in  order  stood, 
Or  Elarth  received  its  name. 
From  everlasting  Thou  art  God 
To  endless  years  the  same." 

We  have  come  out  by  the  hospital  with  its 
twinkling  lights,  to  Washington  Street.  We  can  take 
the  bus  here,  or  walk,  as  we  please. 


XVI 

TO  THE  WOODS  FOR  CHRISTMAS 
GREENS 

"O  gracious  beauty,  ever  new  and  old! 
O  sights  and  sounds  of  Nature,  doubly  dear 
When  the  low  sunshine  warns  the  closing  year 
Of  snow-blown  fields  and  waves  of  Arctic  cold  I " 

HE  sun  hangs  low  in  the  heavens  and 
warns  us  of  the  approach  of  the  great 
Feast  of  the  Christian  year.  We  must 
go  to  the  woods  for  our  Christmas  greens; 
for  while  we  may  buy  our  wreaths  in  the  market,  they 
are  only  half  our  own — to  have  them  a  part  of  our- 
selves, we  must  go  for  them,  and  bring  home  with  each 
green  branch  and  creeping  fern  the  fragrance  and 
atmosphere  of  the  woods. 

The  early  Christians  did  not  celebrate  the  feast 
of  Christ's  birth  till  well  along  into  the  2nd  century, 
and  possibly  not  until  many  years  after;  for  the  first 
historic  evidence  we  have  of  it,  was  in  the  reign  of 
Domitian.  Even  then  there  was  no  particular  month 
set  for  it,  but  sometime  in  the  5th  century,  the  western 
church  ordered  that  then  and  forever  after,  it  should 
be  celebrated  on  the  25th  of  December.  This  day 
was  not  selected  by  chance,  but  with  intention ;  for  it 
being  the  date  of  the  Winter  solstice,  it  had  long 
been  celebrated  by  the  Romans. 


102   ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

Indeed,  the  entire  heathen  world,  especially  the 
more  northern  nations,  held  this  day  in  great  veneration, 
viewing  in  the  return  of  Sol,  the  beginning  of  renewed 
life  and  activities  of  the  powers  of  Nature,  and  of  the 
Gods.  Many  of  these  old  usages  and  beliefs  of  heathen 
Rome  and  Germany  had  passed  over  into  Christianity, 
and  in  order  to  combat  them,  the  church  instituted  rituals, 
which,  while  keeping  the  date,  engrafted  a  Christian 
festival  upon  that  they  were  used  to  celebrating. 

Washington  Irving,  in  his  Christmas  at  Brace- 
bridge  Hall,  shows  how  many  of  these  customs  had 
persisted  —the  yule-log,  the  wassail  bowl,  and  the 
waits;  but  beginning  at  an  early  date,  the  church 
displaced  them  by  dramatic  representations  of  events 
in  the  life  of  Christ,  manger-songs  and  carols,  till 
finally  a  universal  religious  festival  was  established. 
Thus  we  see,  that  while  we  do  not  celebrate  the  day 
of  the  natural  birth  of  Christ,  we  do  much  more,  we 
celebrate  the  birth  of  the  spiritual  transformation,  that 
came  to  the  heathen  world;  what  He  came  to  bring, 
and  what  His  life  stood  for. 

Now,  with  this  background,  we  will  go  for  our 
Christmas  greens;  and  it  will  depend  very  much  upon 
our  resources — physical  and  accessory — where  we 
go.  For  those  of  us  who  have  automobiles  (the  bus 
does  not  well  serve  us)  it  would  be  fine  to  go  to 
the  Essex  woods,  where  we  find  all  those  graceful 
creeping  things — half  fern,  half  moss — that  are  called 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    103 

in  the  Botany,  Lycopodiums.  We  know  them,  though 
incorrectly,  by  the  general  name  of  ground-pine;  but 
really,  only  one  variety  is  rightly  so  called. 

We  motor  on  the  Essex  Road  as  far  as  Pond 
Street,  turn  in  here,  and  go  directly  into  the  woods, 
keeping  to  the  right  for  perhaps  a  mile.  Here  we  are 
surrounded  by  the  beauty  of  the  woods  in  winter  and 
we  eagerly  push  aside  the  dry  leaves  in  search  of  the 
fragrant  trailing  greens.  The  winter  air  has  invigorated 
us,  our  contact  with  Nature  has  cheered  us,  and,  with 
our  arms  filled  with  our  treasures,  we  regain  our  car. 
**0,  the  poetry  of  Earth  is  never  dead.** 

And  just  here  the  writer  cannot  refrain  from 
recalling  the  days  when  the  fine  old  New  England 
farmer,  bright  of  eye  and  ruddy  of  countenance,  owned 
his  own  wood  lot  and  cut  from  it  his  winter*s  supply 
of  wood.  The  trees  had  usually  been  felled  before- 
hand and  sawed  into  eight  foot  lengths  by  the  wood 
choppers,  but  it  had  yet  to  be  hauled  home;  and  this 
part  of  the  Winter*s  work  must  be  done  when  the 
snow  lay  crisp  upon  the  ground. 

The  old  wooden  shod  sled  that  had  been 
"doctored  up**  in  the  leisure  of  early  Winter  and  fitted 
with  rough  hewn  posts  at  each  of  the  four  corners 
was  brought  out;  and  to  it  was  hitched  the  old  farm 
horse,  fiery  perhaps  in  his  youth,  but  now  in  the  sober- 
ness of  old  age  committed  to  the  daily  routine  of  farm 
work.    With  the  shining  axe  twisted  into  the  doubled 


104   ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 

rope  that  passed  between  the  two  hind  posts,  the  hired 
man  in  front  ready  to  drive,  and  the  farmer  standing  up 
behind  steadying  himself  by  the  two  posts — this  formed 
a  picture  that  lingers  still  in  the  memory.  When 
everything  was  in  readiness,  the  reins  were  taken  up, 
the  bells  jingled,  and  all  started  off  with  a  zest  that 
even  stirred  once  more  the  Morgan  blood  of  old  Ned. 

And  the  home  coming!  Was  anything  ever 
more  triumphal  in  the  return  of  a  victorious  warrior 
than  the  taking  of  the  last  hill  and  the  landing  of  the 
fragrant  pine  and  hemlock  at  the  door!  The  old  horse 
is  soon  unhitched  and  given  his  evening  feed.  Later 
by  the  cheerful  light  of  the  sitting-room  fire  the  adven- 
tures of  the  day  are  recounted  to  the  expectant  family; 
the  balkings  and  jumpings  being  received  with  becoming 
attention.  The  enwinations  from  the  pitch  stained 
clothing  fill  the  room  with  a  piney  fragrance  never  to 
be  forgotten,  the  healthy  drowsiness  with  which  Nature 
rewards  her  faithful  servants  at  last  overcomes  the 
narrator,  and  the  scene  dissolves. 

Now,  for  us  who  can  take  a  good  long  walk,  we 
will  go  to  the  Southern  Woods  for  Christmas  ferns 
and  a  lot  of  other  nice  things,  that  we  shall  find  there. 
Again  we  take  the  bus  for  Witham  Street  as  we  did 
early  in  the  year.  We  walk  down  Witham  Street, 
and  turn  off  to  the  left  just  before  we  get  to  the  Jeffrey 
Parsons  house.  We  follow  this  path,  cross  the  brook, 
keeping  to  the  right  till  we  come  to  a  ledge  on  the  left. 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN    105 

We  climb  up  over  the  ledge,  following  a  winding  path, 
which  soon  leads  to  lower  ground. 

Here  we  find  the  beautiful  Christmas  fern,  and 
perhaps  everything  we  want;  but  as  lovers  of  Nature, 
let  us  only  so  gather  as  not  to  injure  a  plant  or  tree, 
or  make  it  less  beautiful  for  another  year.  Returning, 
we  follow  this  path,  which  brings  us  to  the  golf-links; 
and  by  going  around  the  links  by  the  wall,  we  come 
out  at  Pleasant  Street,  following  which  we  arrive  at 
the  Rockport  highway,  where  we  again  take  the  bus. 

We  have  had  a  most  delightful  walk,  and  fortu- 
nate indeed  are  we  who  have  taken  it;  but  let  us  now 
arrange  a  shorter  one,  that  nearly  all  of  us  can  take. 
This  is  around  Bond's  Hill,  and  we  may  take  the  bus 
or  not,  to  Bond  Street.  We  turn  in  here  from  Essex 
Avenue,  and  walk  till  we  get  to  the  last  house  on  our 
right.  Here  we  find  a  road  that  leads  up  into  the 
woods.  It  is  known  as  the  Pitman  road,  and  the  house 
is  still  standing  where  the  old  man  Pitman  lived.  We 
cannot  perhaps  find  the  choice  things  here,  but  sprays 
of  Pine  and  Hemlock  are  fragrant  and  woodsy;  they 
are  from  the  great  out-of-doors,  and  we  gather  for 
ourselves  and  for  the  "shut-ins",  who  thankfully  wel- 
come the  bit  of  green — not  the  commercial  green, 
but  that  brought  by  a  loving  friend. 

The  flowers  are  gone,  the  leaves  falling  from  the 
trees,  have  made  a  carpet  for  our  feet  and  a  covering 


106 


ALONG  THE  OLD  ROADS  OF  CAPE  ANN 


for  the  young  plant-life.    The  evergreens  only  remain, 
but  how  beautiful  they  are! 

•'Close  to  ray  heart  I  fold  each  lovely  thing 
The  sweet  day  yields ;  and  not  disconsolate 
With  calm  patience  of  the  woods,  I  wait 
For  leaf  and  blossom,  when  God  gives  us  Spring," 

FINIS. 


